I Wish I Knew How to Quit You
by I've-Gotta-Be-Me
Summary: Kurt works with his family and friends on the most successful ranch in all of Ohio. When word comes in that there's a new ranch bringing in some serious competition, Kurt's the one who has to go investigate. He doesn't like what he finds at all.
1. Another Day, Another Dollar

_A/N: This__ IS **rated M** for the reasons you're hoping it is (I see you, pervs. Takes one to know one), but there is **plot** in this story, so read through it and see what you think!_

_Split up for easier reading (:_

_I owe inspiration for this fic to **thelonehufflepuff** who was kind enough to brainstorm through it with me. Thanks to her!_

* * *

><p>The sun was unforgiving. It was only ten in the morning and it was already beginning to feel like the hottest day of the summer by far.<p>

Kurt wiped the streaks of sweat running down his face with the back of his hand. He'd probably left a smudges of dirt behind, not that he had time to think about that right now. He was knee-deep in mud that was threatening to rise higher than his boots and stain the legs of his jeans.

The humidity levels were so high lately that there'd been a thunderstorm the night before, soaking every acre of the Hummel's property with fresh rain. While that was good news for the growing crops, the soil had been flooded from the showers - too much of a good thing.

Burt had sent Kurt out early in the morning to begin tilling the soil. Clad in his worn jeans - the ones with holes all over the thighs and thin strings of fabric threatening to rip apart – and a green, plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he'd gone out to the fields armed only with a shovel, a jug of water, and his own determination.

It'd been six hours since he'd began and only a few rows of the plants were starting to resemble anything normal again. His arms were sore with the familiar ache of a hard morning's work as he gripped the shovel tightly. His fingers were calloused and full new of splinters from the wooden handle.

He squinted into the bright sunlight, shielding his eyes with his hand. He regretted leaving his hat back at the house, but it was too late and too far to go back and get it now. The Hummel Ranch was the biggest in the county, and they prided themselves on its size and success. Getting around it on foot would probably take all day long.

He took a swig of water and swished it around his mouth before downing almost half of the container. It was so hot that he could practically see the heat waves coming up from the dirt and swirling around the thick air.

The flannel shirt sticking to his back and arms was starting to feel unbearably heavy as he continued his daunting task. He wasn't usually one for showing skin, but after another hour of labor, he had to undo the topmost buttons of his shirt. A warm breeze was drifting by and took the flaps of his shirt and blew them open. The relief of air on his drenched skin was nothing short of glorious.

He spent the whole afternoon in the same fashion, his legs aching from trudging through the thick, brown mud and his arms feeling like they were a second from falling off. His shirt and was soaked through with sweat and the collar was turning brown from it. The back of his neck felt sunburned if his red-tinged arms were any indication. The worst part was that the day wasn't even over yet.

"Hey, kiddo," called a nearby voice.

There was the thud of hooves on dirt as Kurt turned around to find his father upon a brown horse.

"Hey, Dad," he greeted, welcoming the break from his work. "What brings you this far away from the barn? Weren't you supposed to be rebuilding the fencing?"

Unfortunately, the storm had come with some high winds that had knocked down the fences that usually kept in the herds of animals they housed there. It'd been a mess when Kurt had seen it in the morning as he headed out

"Yeah, I got most of it back up, the most important parts anyways. It'll do for now, at least. I came over to see if you needed my help, but it looks like you got it covered." Burt looked impressed. He dismounted his horse.

"I don't know why you doubt me," Kurt sassed. "I've only been doing this my entire life. A little manual work never hurt anyone." In actuality, he'd surprised himself. The entire field was looking much better and he was just about wrapping it up.

"Well it's getting late. Carole's making a big dinner - you know how she gets. She's cooked for everyone tonight."

Kurt nodded. He _did_ know how enthusiastic Carole got about cooking and "feeding her men" as she liked to put it.

"I'd tell her she's being a housewife again, but I have to say that after working all day without taking a lunch break, that sounds really good right about now," Kurt admitted.

"Leave the rest for tomorrow," Burt told him. "Lord knows it'll still be here."

"Yeah, you're right," Kurt said, shouldering his tool. "I managed to save most of the crop at least." He wiped his brow for what was conceivably the hundredth time all day.

"What would I do without you, kid?" Burt asked, patting his son on the back.

Kurt laughed. "There's Finn, Dad. You'd get by. Not to mention Puck, Brittany, Santana, Sam…" He ticked off the names of the other employees on his fingers. "And countless others."

"Ah, Finn and Carole are new to this life," Burt commented. "Finn's built for hard labor, but we had to teach him the ropes. The rest are pretty good, but you? You're a natural."

"It's all I've known," Kurt corrected him. "Finn will turn out better than me, you just wait and see."

"That'll be the day," Burt joked. "Ah, I'm only joking, you know that. Now let's get back to the house. I'll ride ahead and let Carole know you're on your way."

"Sounds good," Kurt told him as he bent down to retrieve his water and readjust his boots.

Burt gave him a nod before remounting his horse and snapping the reigns. Like an expert horseman, he sped away, a cloud of dust on his horse's back hooves.

Kurt marched through the dirt and wandered over to the field a little ways away where he'd left Charlie, his horse, to graze in the morning. The animal was loyal and never wandered, so Kurt never had to worry about tying him up. He clicked his tongue twice before he heard hooves moving through the long grass.

The horse was black with white fur around its hooves and markings on its face.

"Hey, Charlie," Kurt spoke softly, stroking the colt by its ears. "Did you have a good day?"

The horse neighed and bucked its head happily.

Kurt laughed as he grabbed the reigns to steady him. "I'm glad to hear that."

There was a satchel attached to the saddle where he stored his water jug and makeshift straps to tie around both ends of his shovel and secure best as he could – something of his own invention. It wasn't perfect, but if he didn't push Charlie to run _too_ fast, it got the job done.

He hoisted a foot up into the nearest stirrup and used his arms to pull himself up and over the horse until he was sitting atop it. When he was settled, he nudged the horse gently with the heels of his boots and they were speeding off towards the house.

* * *

><p>Kurt was shoveling food into his mouth at lightning speed. He always made fun of Finn for scarfing down meals, but after his long day of work, he was beginning to understand the feeling.<p>

The table was laden with golden fried chicken, sweet bread rolls, steaming vegetables of every kind, mashed potatoes, and fresh milk. But the lovely spread wouldn't be complete without people to share it with. There was the Hummel-Hudson family joined by a few of their closest friends who also happened to be the ranch hands.

Pleasant chatter was passed around the table while everyone was relishing their first serving. Kurt, on the other hand was taking the opposite approach.

He bit off a huge chunk of piping hot chicken and chased it down with the cold milk.

"Slow down," Burt laughed. "Where's the fire?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized, not really sorry at all, "I'm just _starving_." He turned to face his stepmother. "Carole, I honestly don't remember how I even survived before my dad married you. You are the best cook in all of Ohio and I'm not just saying that either."

"Seriously," Santana seconded. "This is delicious, Mrs. Hummel."

There were mutters of agreement from all.

"Well thank you," she accepted the praise. "I've never had so many mouths to feed, so I'm just glad you like it."

"Trust me, Dad's idea of dinner is reheated pancakes," Kurt said, spearing some green beans with his fork.

"That is not true," Burt protested from across the table.

"Just telling the truth, Dad." Kurt shrugged as he continued to eat.

Finn was starting in on his third helping when he finally spoke for the first time.

"So, Burt…" he began.

"Dad," Burt interrupted. "I told you to call me 'Dad' son."

"Dad," Finn said with a small smile. "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

But instead of Burt being the one to answer, Puck rudely interjected. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, Burt. We might have run into a little problem."

"Problem?" Kurt's voice rose to a high pitch. "With the ranch, you mean?"

"Yeah," Puck continued to eat, seeming to be unbothered. "I was out talking to Mr. Jenson at the marketplace and asking him how much he was going to buy this week and he cut down his usual order by _half_."

All of the scraping forks were silenced. No one said a word, no one even breathed.

"By half?" Burt asked as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Why would he do that?"

"He said something about another ranch nearby – someplace new – that sold their produce for cheaper, at least that's the rumor."

"What?" Kurt furrowed his brow in confusion. "We're the only supplier for miles. All the markets buy from us. This has to be a mistake."

"No, it's true. The other buyers were talking about it too. Lots of people cut back their usual orders because they were going to check out this new supplier."

"A…new ranch?" Kurt repeated. "Maybe they're a specialty farm, maybe they're a dairy or they raise cattle for slaughter. It can't be that bad…"

"I've heard rumors about that too, but I'd hoped they weren't true," Burt admitted. "A lot of it is hearsay, mind you. They're about as big as us from what I hear and they have _a lot_ more workers to tend the land." The man's eyes were bleak with fear. Kurt knew just how much this farm and this business meant to his father.

"How could you hear about that and just…keep it from us?" Finn asked, looking extremely upset. "Don't you think we'd be interested in that information?"

Brittany drummed her fingers against the tabletop nervously. "What are we going to do?" she fretted.

"Well it's obvious, isn't it?" Puck shrugged. All eyes turned to him. "Someone's gotta go over there and check them out…Kurt…" Puck shifted to face him. "Why don't you, uh, go make yourself useful and go spy on the competition?"

Kurt thought it over for a second, "Fine," he snapped, pursing his lips. "Since no one else is willing to do it, I will. I'll just go over there tomorrow, put on the old Hummel charm, dig up what dirt I can and come back."

Burt nodded his approval. "That just might work," he conceded.

"Yeah, like going behind enemy lines," Finn agreed.

"So it's settled," Kurt said, still not entirely pleased with the turn of events. "I'll go find out everything I can while you guys come up with some new ideas to keep the Hummel Ranch on the map. We're not keen on sharing," he smirked.

"But I like sharing," Brittany said. "It's my favorite thing to do, just ask Santana."

Everyone laughed as they resumed their meal, effectively diffusing any leftover tension.

So they were decided.

The mixed family finished their meal in even higher spirits than they'd begun. Tomorrow would be an interesting day indeed.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Alright, are you ready for what's next? (;_


	2. Checking Out the Competition

"Just follow this road for a long while until it forks," Burt instructed. "Then take the left fork until you come upon the ranch - you can't miss it."

Sweat was already beading Kurt's forehead from the humidity of the early morning. He mounted Charlie with ease – he figured a horse would be the most discreet way to travel - tipping his broad-rimmed hat to acknowledge his father's directions.

"Got it, Dad."

"Whatever you do, don't give yourself away. Keep a low profile at all costs. If there are any signs of trouble – any at all – head back straight away," Burt warned.

"Don't worry," Kurt waved off the warning. "I can handle it. You just worry about helping Finn and the others with the harvesting today so we can sell to the markets again soon."

"Go on," Burt slapped the horse's side, urging it forward. "Don't be too long, you hear?" he called as Kurt's horse began to trot away.

With one last wave back, Kurt snapped the reigns twice and tightened his knees against Charlie's sides. The horse went from a trot to a brisk one to a flat out sprint in a matter of seconds, kicking up plenty of dirt in their wake.

* * *

><p>The unpaved road proved no problem at all and Kurt rode on for mile without meeting another soul. That was the advantage of living in the sticks – there was a lot of unoccupied land. It was peaceful.<p>

After a long ride lasting most of the morning, Kurt came across the foreign ranch at last. He slowed down Charlie to a trot as the neared the borders. He didn't want to look _too_eager.

He followed the dirt path past fields of green grass and tall crops and up towards a cluster of buildings. He didn't have to ride all the way to the main house when he spotted a group of men tending some crops in a nearby space of field.

The area was fenced off, so Kurt drew Charlie up to a post before dismounting. He looped the horse's reigns around the wooden post a few times just to be safe.

"I don't need you wandering off," Kurt explained, patting Charlie's mane.

He was partially shielded from view, so he took advantage of his privacy to duck down and dust off his brown leather boots. He was dressed to impress with dark blue jeans, a checkered short sleeve button-down, a brown belt with a shiny silver buckle and, of course, his trusty hat to finish off the look.

He straightened up, feeling confident in his outfit. Using one hand for leverage, he lithely hopped the fence and began walking. The workers were spread out through the rows, it seemed, as he sauntered forward.

As he passed, they paused in their work on by one. Kurt grew painfully aware that all these men were _extremely_ attractive.

First was a tanned boy with blond hair sporting jeans cut off just above the knees and no shirt to speak of. The muscles on his arms glistened with a sheen of sweat and he had a piece of hay tucked behind one ear.

Kurt's eyes moved to the next guy who was using a tool to turn the dirt. He had dark brown hair and a bit of a dimple in his cheek as he smiled kindly as Kurt passed. He payed no attention to how Kurt let his eyes linger on that torso of his. The boy was wearing light jeans and a shirt unbuttoned all the way – _without_ an undershirt beneath. Needless to say, his abs were…_impressive_. The brunette tipped his own hat towards Kurt, oblivious to his own good looks.

Kurt smiled back nervously, gulping at he saw not one, but _two_ guys in the next row. One had short dark hair and looked to be of Asian decent. He worse a simple plain white shirt soaked through with sweat, the sleeves rolled a couple of times. The material was thin enough to see through, causing Kurt to blush deeply as he noticed the ripple of the boy's muscles through the fabric.

The other boy had rich, brown skin and a killer smile. He worse nothing but a jean vest on top, exposing _plenty_ of skin, and some ripped up jeans on his lower half. Kurt tried not to stare at the gaping holes in the guy's pants, revealing his knees.

Kurt's own knees were buckling at the sight of so many devastatingly good looking men in one place. He swallowed hard and kept walking, looking for someone in charge.

He came to a halt when he saw the most gorgeous man of all. His heart stopped and he felt blood rushing to certain body parts just at the sight of him.

He wasn't as tall as some of the others, but he had a presence about him. He had black curly waves running uncontrolled atop his head; curls that glistened in the sun if he turned a certain way and that moved in the light breeze. He had washed out jeans coupled with an incredibly tight, grey shirt and black boots.

Kurt's breath skittered unevenly and his mouth fell open as he watched the boy reach down to grab the hem of that grey shirt and begin to tug it upwards. Kurt wet his lips as more and more light-toned skin was revealed. It was then that he realized just how low cut this boy's jeans were, revealing the "v"shape of his hips, the waistband of his underwear, and a wispy trail of dark hair from beneath said waistband up to his navel.

Kurt silently thanked every deity known to man that it was even hotter than yesterday.

He continued to look on as the strange boy pulled the shirt completely over his head, revealing a toned body. Kurt didn't even try to hide his immodest gaze, half-hoping the boy would catch him staring.

Kurt had been with other men before, but if there were any lingering doubts about his sexuality they were all gone now; driven away even further the more he admired the man standing before him now. More importantly, if he thought he'd been turned on before, he'd been wrong. It was nothing compared to how he was lusting now, admiring the shine of sweat in the crevices of this guy's impressive pectorals and forearms.

The boy ran a hand through his tangled curls before noticing Kurt for the first time.

"Can I help you?" he asked with a polite smile.

Kurt snapped his mouth shut and folded his hands in front his jeans. He hoped the boy wouldn't look down and see just how turned on he was.

"Hi!" he squeaked. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat before speaking in his normal tone of voice. "I mean, hello. I'm new here…"

The other boy beamed at Kurt and stuck out his hand.

"I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt…" he took Blaine's hand while he thought up a last name. "…Adams. I'm Kurt Adams." Everyone would know his last name.

"Adams, huh?" Blaine nodded as he believed Kurt. "There's an unfamiliar name."

"Like I said, I'm new to these parts and horribly desperate for work," Kurt fibbed. "Think you can help a guy out?"

"Well…" Blaine hesitated. "We're not exactly short-handed. Guys, come over here and meet the new kid!" he called.

All four guys Kurt saw earlier emerged from the stalks of plants and gathered round.

Kurt felt overwhelmed by their various stats of undress. In fact, he felt _overdressed_ in their presences and overpowered again by their collective attractiveness.

Blaine pointed to each one as he said their names.

"Jeff, Nick, Wes, and David," he went down the line. They nodded and waved in turn. "And that's not the half of 'em. The others should be working on the other side of the ranch maybe. Like I said, we're not exactly in need of more hands."

"Aw, don't be so harsh, Blaine," Jeff said with a flick of his blond hair. "Give him a chance."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "He looks like he's up to the job."

"He looks questionable to me," Wes said as he narrowed his eyes. "You should have him show you what he can do instead of hiring him on the spot."

Blaine laughed at his friends. "Thanks for the input, you guys, but I can take it from here. Get back to work, I'll be along in a minute."

The boys dispersed back to their tasks, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone again. As alone as they could be, at least.

"Wes has a point…what do you know about working on a ranch?"

"Well what kind of operation are you running here? Maybe if I knew I could tell you how I can be of service." He gave Blaine a dashing smile, determined not to let any man, no matter how blatantly _sexy_, distract him from his plan. "Are you strictly produce?" he prompted.

"No," Blaine answered, crossing his arms and only drawing more attention to his bare chest. Kurt watched as a droplet of sweat trailed down Blaine's neck and across his upper body, disappearing behind those folded arms; the tense muscles just below his elbows glistening in the early afternoon sun...Biting his lip, Kurt forced himself to listen.

"We produce pretty much everything here. Produce, dairy, we raise and breed animals – the works." He lowered his voice. "Word is, the Hurmal Ranch…"

"Hummel," Kurt corrected haughtily, almost blowing his cover.

"Right, _Hummel_ Ranch has quite the empire around here. We decided there should be a new reign in town is all."

"Well, that's great," Kurt gave Blaine a tight-lipped smile, resisting the urge to slap the boy he just met across the face. "That's just great."

"Are you okay?" Blaine touched Kurt's arm lightly.

"Perfect," Kurt said quickly. "I'm fine."

"Is that your horse?" Blaine gestured to the animal as it tried, unsuccessfully, to pull its reigns free from the post and pawed the ground impatiently.

"Yeah, that's Charlie," Kurt answered with a smile. "He just doesn't like being confined to one spot."

"Well come on," Blaine started walking away. "You don't have to tie him up; we have a perfectly adequate barn, you know."

Kurt grinned to himself as he went to retrieve Charlie. He had no way to tell if he even had a chance with Blaine, but from the tone of his voice, it _did_ sound like he was flirting…He felt smugly superior – besides his chiseled body, Blaine wasn't winning Kurt over. Right now he had the advantage over the enemy, and he liked it.

Blaine leapt over the low fence to join Kurt on the dirt path as they walked towards the barn together. The curly headed boy took a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped his forehead with it and letting the cloth linger against his skin.

"It's so hot lately," he commented, folding the rag back into a neat square. "Bad for the crops, but good for working on a tan."

"Ah, the optimist," Kurt smiled. "Well you all seem to have your own ways to deal with the rising temperatures." He looked pointedly at Blaine's exposed skin.

"What do you mean?" Blaine cocked his head to the side innocently, but Kurt got the feeling that he knew exactly what Kurt meant – he just wanted to get the satisfaction of it being said aloud. Well, he'd just have to live with disappointment.

As if to illustrate his point, two more sweaty guys came jogging up to Blaine. Kurt's eyes went wide when he saw how scarcely dressed they were as well.

"Blaine, we're glad we found you!" the nearest one said.

"Yeah," agreed the second one, hunching over to rest his hands on his knees. He looked up at Kurt. "Who's the new guy?"

"Kurt," Blaine pointed at him, "This is Thad…" He motioned towards the boy who was taking the baseball cap off of his head to run his fingers through the dark head of hair.

His hair was plastered against his forehead, but after a moment, Thad managed to straighten it up a bit. Kurt cringed as the boy wiped his sweaty hand on the front of his undershirt before extending it to him.

"Hey," he greeted. When Kurt didn't take his hand, he realized why and dropped it awkwardly.

"Yeah…" Blaine stifled a laugh. "And that's Flint," he nodded toward the second boy who had short, light brown hair.

Flint was currently balling up the shirt he had in his hand and dabbing his forehead with it. Unlike Thad, he made no attempt to shake Kurt's hand, choosing instead to continue to pat down his bare chest with the dirty fabric.

"What's up?" he offered.

"Nothing much," Kurt answered. "Blaine was just, uh, giving me the grand tour, I guess."

"Which we should really get back to." Blaine shot the two guys a look. "Unless it's urgent. Unless someone is _dying_," he emphasized.

Kurt raised his eyebrows. So Blaine wanted him alone? He must be doing something right.

"Umm…" the two boys exchanged confused looks. "I guess we could go find Jeff or Wes and ask them instead...?"

"Good choice," Blaine commended, patting them both on their shoulders. "Try not to burn anything down," he warned as he and Kurt continued past them and to the barn.

"We'll try not to," they told him before jogging off in the direction that Kurt and Blaine had come from.

Kurt tightened his grip on Charlie's reigns as they resumed their walk.

"Why didn't you answer their question?" he asked Blaine breezily. "Isn't that kind of your job?"

"Ah, those two have hundreds of questions to ask and hardly any work to show for it," Blaine explained. "I figure let someone else deal with them right now."

"I see…" Kurt rolled his eyes a bit. Yes, Blaine had a certain rustic charm about him and his flirting skills were above par, but he was also sounding like kind of a jerk. Pile that one top of the fact that he was Kurt's competition and Blaine was becoming less likeable by the second.

Or maybe Kurt was just falling victim to his short-temper. Either way, it was unsettling how he wanted to rip out his hair from frustration just as much as he wanted to know how good it would feel to touch Blaine – and it _would_ feel good, that much he knew.

They finally reached the barn and Kurt tried to force himself not to look at Blaine's arms as he pushed open the door. He told himself not to stare at how the muscles in Blaine's back flexed and, above all, not to look at anything below the waist. He tried. He failed.

"Come on in," Blaine beckoned. "It's time you and I had a private word." His voice was like velvet and even if Kurt wanted to resist this time, he knew he wouldn't have stood a chance in hell.

"A private word?" Kurt became worried as he led Charlie to a nearby bucket of oats. "Is this some kind of test or something?"

"Test?" Blaine laughed. "Uh, no. You already failed the test, Kurt."

"I did?" Kurt was downright scared now. Had he blown his cover without realizing it?

"Do you really take me for someone stupid?" Blaine asked. His voice rang with an underlying tone of unmistakable anger. "Because I'll have you know that I can spot a liar from a mile away."

"What a talent," Kurt retorted. "Good luck putting that on your résumé." He decided being sarcastic might not be to his advantage, just like jumping to conclusions might not be either. "Anyways, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"_Like hell_ you don't" Blaine scoffed. "Adams?" He crossed his arms. "Was that honestly the best you could come up with? I'm not an idiot…"

"Well you sure sound like one each time you mention your education level…" Kurt cut in, mentally kicking himself for giving in.

"I'm practical. I seek out the competition beforehand like a good entrepreneur. I don't go around wearing disguises and sneaking onto other people's property. I don't go around trying to pass myself off as a clueless out-of-towner just to dig up information. That's deceitful and unprofessional."

"Well if you were trying to convince me that you were above me, you've failed miserably," Kurt sing-songed. "Firstly," he punctuated the word with taking a step forward. "This isn't a disguise, this is how I dress. I'm sorry I missed your dress code, or lack thereof, ordering everyone to prance around _half-naked_. Secondly…" Another step closer. "I didn't sneak onto your property. I used the road which is – oh, I don't know - open for public use that leads right up to your ranch. You welcomed me here by choice. Thirdly," he was so close to Blaine that he could see how his thick eyelashes curled to touch his eyelids. "I'm not clueless, nor was I pretending to be. I could put your work ethics to shame. And _fourthly_," He was dangerously close now, an unsafe distance. "You're an ass."

He pressed his hand to Blaine's chest and pushed him backwards.

Kurt's felt the warmth of Blaine's skin beneath his hand and the thin hair there underneath his fingers. He curled his fingers against the hot patch of skin, losing his train of thought.

Blaine looked down at where Kurt's hand was making contact with his skin at about the same time Kurt realized he should've removed it a while ago. But he couldn't bring himself to take it away…

Before he could decide whether to apologize or shove Blaine again, the other boy had gripped his wrist and forcefully removed it.

Kurt's mouth fell open in shock, irritation reclaiming the forefront of his mind once again.

"You have a lot of nerve," Blaine said, walking around Kurt.

Kurt laughed in disbelief. "_I_ have a lot of nerve? You're the one who moves here from who knows where and just decides that it might be good fun to try and take over someone else's business."

"Like you have some sort of right to it?" Blaine challenged. "This is an _open market_. Competition is how this country thrives. You're just mad because your shit excuse of a ranch doesn't even qualify as competition to us. We have better tools, more workers, and likeability. If you don't like it, maybe you should go try and do something about it."

"You're right about the tools, I'll give you that," Kurt huffed. "But your business will go under if you keep selling your product for less than its worth. Or maybe you think you're so rich that it won't be a problem."

"Because it won't," Blaine shot back. "You really think I care about how much money we make?"

"Well if you didn't know how to run a business properly then you shouldn't be here!" Kurt shouted.

"This is _my_ business. My father paid his dues to bring him to the top of the corporate ladder and now he's set for the rest of his life. He decided its time I did the same – work my way from the very bottom to the top. I could've chosen any market to go into, but I chose this one."

"Well why did you do that?" Kurt threw up his hands in exasperation. "If you could have chosen any profession that you wanted why did you come to Ohio and choose this one? My father's spent years running our ranch, even when it was falling apart and even when it was dragging us into debt. But he turned that around for us and now we're on top. We were doing just fine until _you_ came along." He shoved Blaine's shoulder, his hand slipping against the slight perspiration there, but still hard enough to send Blaine a few steps back.

"Look, Kurt," Blaine said his name with vehemence. "I'm not going to fight you on this. You have your ranch, I have mine. Whose is better? Well…that's open to interpretation."

"You're rude," Kurt burst out. "You're rude, you're uncouth, you're unprofessional, you're uneducated, and I hate you."

"Oh is that so?" Blaine took a step forward and pushed Kurt into a wooden post, his hand on Kurt's shoulder, holding him there. "Well I don't think you're any better. I think you came over here, you got your dirt, and you should probably leave."

He said that, but he didn't release Kurt from under his grasp. In fact, he took another step forward. Kurt gazed down at the other boy's lips which were now merely inches away from his own. But as always, his wit was faster than his blind lust.

"I'd settle for _you_ leaving. Or dying…Whichever comes first," he told Blaine.

"And I'd settle for you shutting up," the other boy countered.

Kurt opened his mouth to rip into Blaine some more and tell him _just what_ he could settle for, when Blaine was closing the distance between them.

Blaine's lips were intent against Kurt's, forcing his open and fully possessing them. Kurt blinked in surprise because the more Blaine kissed him the clearer it became that this obviously wasn't his first time doing this.

Kurt was pressed even harder into the wooden post as Blaine's tongue slid into his mouth and tantalizingly caressed the roof of his mouth. Kurt gasped and closed his eyes instinctively, wanting to savor the way Blaine tasted and the way it just felt _so damn_ good. Blaine's tongue was skilled, moving in all the right places and flicking against his own in a suggestive manner.

Hesitantly, Kurt put his hands against Blaine's waist, allowing them to move across the wet skin there and daring to pull him even closer. He moaned into Blaine's mouth against his will as the other boy used his teeth to nip lightly at Kurt's upper lip.

Blaine pushed back Kurt's hat with his free hand and it landed with a soft thud on the floor, not that either of them took much notice of it. With it gone, the other boy let his hands wander to the back of Kurt's neck and massage circles into his scalp; which also, conveniently, brought them that much closer.

Kurt felt minor irritation at Blaine touching his hair, but he didn't want this to end just yet either. He settled for biting down on Blaine's lip hard to show that his invasiveness wasn't going to be tolerated. But Blaine just let out a wicked chuckle and grabbed a tuft of Kurt's hair and tugged it. Kurt shivered at the slight bit of pain and moved his hands upwards, letting his nails drag against Blaine's warm skin.

When Blaine's hands were on the topmost buttons of his shirt, Kurt realized this wasn't part of his plan at all. He used all the resolve he had left to put both hands to Blaine's chest and push him back.

"Blaine…" he panted. His lips were already swollen and cold without Blaine's over them. "What are you doing?"

Blaine didn't answer immediately, but instead pressed hot kisses to Kurt's jaw and neck, raking his teeth lightly against the sensitive skin.

"I'm getting you to be quiet," he answered simply, pausing only to suck on Kurt's throat and graze his tongue against the pressure point, causing Kurt to shudder. "And this seems to be the only way to do it."

"Yes, but…" Kurt found it difficult to speak when Blaine's tongue was dancing in patterns along the base of his throat. His sure fingers were undoing the buttons of Kurt's shirt again faster than lightning. Kurt didn't even notice him doing it until he felt the cool air meet his bare, heated torso. "But I don't like you…" he concluded, a lazy drag to his voice.

"And I don't like you either," Blaine agreed, tugging Kurt's shirt down just enough to expose his shoulders. "At all, in fact." He kissed the crook of Kurt's neck tenderly, slowly drawing him back into the moment as he moved lower. "But you want me." His eyes shined with excitement. "I can tell."

Kurt leaned back against the post, exposing more of his skin to Blaine as he struggled to keep his breathing quiet. His hands were pulling Blaine into him, silently begging for more – begging for it all. He knew he shouldn't be doing this; he knew that the only thing he should be doing was giving Blaine a swift kick where it counts and leaving. But he couldn't – he was too far gone. Blaine's mouth was working wonders on him like no other and Kurt wanted.

_Oh, how Kurt wanted._

He wanted tongues, teeth, biting. He wanted fingertips and pulling, massaging, pinching. Above all, he wanted Blaine. He wanted every inch of him, every space, everything that could be taken, he wanted to take. Yes, he wanted to that more than anything.

Still, morality reared its ugly head and a voice in the back of his mind was shouting at him that he was better than Blaine Anderson; that he didn't need Blaine at all and he should leave while he still had some semblance of power. For the first time in a long while, Kurt began to doubt that voice.

"But…" he tried again. To his delight, Blaine cut him off again.

"But nothing. Shut up and enjoy this, Hummel…Because it'll probably never happen again."

The way he spoke, as if he were some sort of novelty prize that everyone fought over to win, as if there were people lined up at his door to have their turn with him, made Kurt feel strangely possessive. But he deemed Blaine's tone of voice deserved as the other boy resumed kissing and biting his neck slowly.

Kurt whined and dug his nails in Blaine's back, hoping that he would leave angry, half-mooned marks there for later. He stuck his fingers through the back loops of Blaine's jeans and brought him closer until their bare chests were flush against one another. Kurt's heart was pounding and he imagined that he could feel Blaine's racing pulse too.

Blaine moved his mouth back to Kurt's quickly - so fast that Kurt didn't know what was happening until Blaine's mouth was moving with his own again. Blaine drew Kurt's tongue into his own mouth and sucked on it gently. Kurt whimpered helplessly as Blaine continued to use his mouth to encompass it, seeming to mime what he was going to do to a very different part of Kurt's anatomy if he was lucky.

"Hmm…" Blaine grinned as he pulled back a bit. He trailed his hand slowly down Kurt's torso, across his chest, past his navel, straight over his hips and towards the most indecent part of Kurt's body at the moment. He pressed his palm to the denim, applying pressure to the hard bulge he found there. "That seems to have done the trick now, hasn't it?" he whispered.

"Mmmmph…" Kurt mumbled, trying not to think too hard about how this attractive practically stranger was touching him through his jeans. Most specifically, he tried not to think of what else he was capable of doing. He bit down on his lower lip, suppressing another groan.

Without any warning whatsoever, Blaine's hand went from on top of Kurt's jeans to beneath them. Kurt stiffened in a mixture of complete shock and splintering pleasure as he felt Blaine's confident fingers wrapping around his length.

"Oh," Kurt breathed. It was all he could manage before he was consumed with heat. Blaine had buried his head in Kurt's neck again and had taken it upon himself to do the filthiest things possible with that busy tongue of his as he moved his hand slowly. He moved it so slowly that it was almost physically painful. "Damn it," Kurt swore under his breath.

"Gee, I'm sorry," Blaine lifted his head ever so slightly. He bestowed an innocent smile to Kurt, acting as if he was oblivious to what was going on at all. "Is there something wrong?"

"There are…s-several things wrong," Kurt stammered. His vision was blurring a bit at the edges as he blinked several times.

"Well I thought you hated me," Blaine prompted.

Kurt took a deep breath. "I do. More now than ever, you fucking little…"

"Oh, you're talking about this…" Blaine gave Kurt a good squeeze, causing Kurt to stagger a bit and let out a gargled noise. "No problem, I'll just take care of that…"

Kurt nearly keeled over from surprise as Blaine knelt down. He unzipped Kurt's jeans swiftly and positioned his mouth closer. At the last second, Kurt decided to avert his eyes – staring into Blaine's hazel eyes during the act would be far too much to handle.

The anticipation was practically eating him alive and still he felt nothing. He chanced a look down to see Blaine readjusting his black boot. The other boy looked up at Kurt with a devilish grin.

"Oh, you thought I was going to…" He cut off the sentence with a short laugh. "Sorry to disappoint you, Kurt, but not right now." He straightened up and brushed the dirty patches on his knees. He turned to walk away.

"Wait…" Kurt called after him, still extremely unsettled.

Blaine turned back expectantly, but Kurt said nothing. They just both stared at each other, not sure what to expect from the other one.

He trudged back towards Kurt, hands shoved in his own back pockets.

He placed one last, lingering kiss on Kurt's lips, using his hands to brush back the lapels of Kurt's shirt and sweep across his uncovered skin. He rested his fingers on Kurt's stomach before grabbing the fabric of the shirt in his hands and forcing Kurt forward. The kiss took on a hungry edge as if Blaine was the one not ready to give it up yet.

They broke away abruptly, their breathing harsh.

"Tonight…" Blaine panted. "Meet me back here tonight at midnight. Otherwise forget it and don't bother ever coming back."

Kurt gasped for air and didn't bother answering. He couldn't do that, could he? No, he couldn't do that. But he said nothing aloud, choosing just to watch as Blaine turned away again and began unlatching the barn door.

"Now, if you'll excuse me…" Blaine said, shoving open the door. "Some of us actually have work to do, ranches to run, that kind of stuff." He walked backwards, letting his eyes remain on Kurt's for a moment longer. "You know, stuff you wouldn't know anything about."

He jogged off towards the field again, leaving Kurt to stare after him.

Kurt felt annoyance stinging at the edges of his mind again. That last comment brought him back to reality and reminded him why he hated Blaine and everything he stood for. He was filled with his loathing and disgust with himself for letting things get out of hand. No matter how dangerously seductive Blaine was, he couldn't allow himself to be taken with the boy. He was, after all, the enemy. But what was that expression about keeping your enemies close?

His brain was muddled and he was arguing with himself in circles. He let out frustrated sigh before zipping his pants back up and reaching for his hat where it lay on the ground. Dusting it off to the best of his ability, he slipped it back on his head and went over to retrieve Charlie.

"Come on, boy," he said, readjusting the reigns. "Let's get out of here."

As they exited the barn, Kurt couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd gotten himself into.


	3. The Sin

"Kurt, are you okay?" Finn came running up to him as soon as Kurt hit the perimeter of the Hummel ranch.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Kurt assured him. "Why?"

"Well you look…"

"Hey, Kurt. You look like shit," Puck called over.

He and Santana were working nearby and came over to join the two.

"And, uh, were you dressed like that when you left?" Puck asked as he approached.

Kurt looked down in confusion, assessing his clothes. His jeans were covered with a thin film of dust and his shirt was messily untucked. The buttons were skewed, skipping several fastening, and only added to the disarray. He groaned inwardly as he pulled of his hat.

"What's wrong with your hair?" Santana narrowed her eyes.

"Nothing," Kurt hastily answered, running his hands through his still mussed locks. He could feel it sticking up in the back. "Hat hair."

She looked unconvinced as she crossed her arms across the bib of her fitted overalls.

"Did something go wrong?" Finn asked. He grabbed Kurt by the shoulders. "Tell me what happened."

Kurt said the first lie that popped into his head. "Yeah, I was ambushed. Didn't go so well."

In truth, the boys of the Anderson Ranch didn't suspect a thing. They'd all waved goodbye to Kurt as he passed by on what he thought would be a walk of shame. Apparently they were none the wiser when it came to his identity.

Finn believed him on the spot. "Oh my gosh, are you hurt? Did they attack you? Are you alright?" He searched for any signs of injury.

"I'm fine, Kurt repeated. "I'll live."

"I don't know…" Puck stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You don't seem to be in pain and I'd know that look anywhere, Hummel...You got some, didn't you?" He punched Kurt in the arm. "That's my boy!"

Kurt flushed a deep red. "You're mistaken, as usual," he sniffed. "Nothing happened."

"You're lying to the wrong person," Puck warned. "Let's all admit it, I've gotten the most ass out of all us combined. If anyone knows the 'I just got lucky' look, it's me. And you've got it written from head to toe."

"I think so too," Santana agreed. "Looks like you scored."

"Who's the lucky lady?" Puck persisted.

Kurt blanched and felt his eyes go wide. "No one," he practically shouted. "There was no lady!" That much, at least, was true.

"Dude, you are totally lying right now." Puck laughed. "You look so guilty."

Kurt stamped his foot impatiently. "For the last time, there was no girl!" he said shrilly.

"Yeah, whatever." Puck looked like he knew better.

"Don't you want to hear what I found out?" Kurt tried to change the subject. Finn was the only one who fell for it.

"Yeah, what'd you learn?"

"Well…"

Kurt recounted every detail he could remember before Blaine had...distracted him, for lack of a better word. When he finished talking, everyone in the group seemed more tense than before.

"Whoa…" Finn exhaled.

"I know," Kurt agreed.

"The most high tech piece of equipment we have is, well…the Chevy," Santana stated.

Kurt nodded noncommittally. "How right you are." He turned back to his step-brother. "We have to figure out what to do and we need to figure it out fast."

"What we _have_ to figure out is who Kurt _did_," Puck interjected.

"Nobody!" Kurt cried.

"Dude, just tell me," he begged. "Was she hot?"

"I can't talk to you right now," Kurt huffed before stomping away, grabbing Charlie's reigns angrily.

"You owe me five bucks," Santana whispered to Puck.

He shook his head. "No way. Not until we get confirmation."

The pair shook on it before returning to their work.

* * *

><p>It was eleven o' clock at night and Kurt had been tossing and turning for hours. He'd planned on falling asleep and just forgetting everything, but he kept staring at the hands on the clock. He watched as the minutes melted away before his eyes until all chance of sleep was lost.<p>

He'd lost count of how many times he'd convinced himself to go to Blaine just to talk himself out of it again.

On one hand, Blaine was a jerk who threatened to turn Kurt's family upside down. He was rude, conceited, and selfish. On the other hand, it didn't have to mean anything. Blaine put the other guys Kurt had been with to shame and if he was being honest, Kurt wanted another taste.

But he felt guilty. He felt like giving in to that darker side of himself was to go against his family and everything he believed in.

Then again, Kurt had spoken with his father earlier and passed on every bit of information he knew. It'd been decided that there was nothing the Hummels could do (or afford to do) at the moment, so the issue was temporarily put to rest; shoved aside but not forgotten - lingering on the edges and threatening to take them over in a matter of seconds.

So maybe if advancing the Hummel Ranch wasn't a liable option, then taking the Anderson Ranch down a few steps certainly was. Or at least it could be if Kurt had any real power – if he knew their weakness.

He sat up so fast that his pillow flipped off the edge of the bed. Suddenly he knew his mind was made up after all.

* * *

><p>About fifteen minutes later – after he'd managed to pull on a clean t-shirt and the closest pair of jeans he could reach – he was sneaking around the side of the house with the keys to the truck in his hands.<p>

As far as he knew, everyone inside the house was sound asleep (and when they went to sleep, there was no waking them up). He'd heard the distinct snoring coming from his parents' room which meant he was safe.

He opened the driver's side door and quickly turned the key in the ignition. The engine grumbled and sputtered a bit, but it caught. Without getting in, Kurt shifted it into neutral and ran around to the front of the vehicle.

It was parked along the side of the main house, so there was a straight path to the road. Carefully, Kurt nudged the hood of the truck and guided it backwards as quickly as he could without losing control of it. The wheels slowly turned, crackling against the dirt and rocks, but they turned nonetheless.

In this fashion, he pushed the truck all the way down the dirt path until it was a safe distance away. He ran around to the back and put all his force to bring the rolling vehicle to a stop, compromising his life in the process, but he had more strength than he gave himself credit for. He managed to slow it down to a crawl so he could jump in the driver's seat, shift gears, and drive away.

He broke probably about fifty traffic laws as he sped, completely over the speed limit, towards the competitor ranch. What had taken him most of the morning by horse took him twenty minutes at most with his breakneck speed.

All of the lights were out in the buildings on the inner circle of the ranch, so Kurt switched off his headlights while he was still a ways away. He killed the engine as soon as he could and hopped out of the truck without bothering to lock it.

He looked around to make sure no one was watching him or following him. When he judged the surroundings safe, he made a run for the barn. The doors were latched and he couldn't push them open, no matter how hard he tried. Cheeks blazing, he cleared his throat and knocked.

The doors opened with a creak and Kurt flushed even deeper when Blaine's face appeared, a smug grin plastered on it. Well, at least he was fully clothed this time…

"How can I help you?" Blaine asked.

Kurt didn't know what to say. They both knew why he was there, but to say it aloud made it seem ten times worse. He looked down at his boots, not meeting Blaine's eyes.

"I thought we already discussed this," he finally answered while he tried not to fidget. "You can help me by dropping off the face of the planet." He gave Blaine a tight smile.

"Uh huh," Blaine took a few steps forward. He bent down to kiss Kurt's neck, moving his mouth upwards. "Is that _really_ what you want, Kurt? Think about it." He drew the lobe of Kurt's ear into his mouth and nibbled on it. When he spoke again, his voice was a purr directly into Kurt's ear. "Think about it _really hard_."

No one had ever done that to Kurt's earlobe, so he was too absorbed with the small action that he couldn't answer. If he'd been asked an hour ago what he thought about someone's tongue in another person's ear, he'd have answered that it's no place for a tongue to be at all. Being on the receiving end of it though was an _eye-opening_ experience. His breathing hitched audibly and he was tilting his head even closer to Blaine's open mouth. He could feel his fingers itching to grab something – anything at all; Blaine's shirt, his arms, his hair – they just needed to be touching something because it felt _good_. Much too good.

Kurt reached up and settled for grabbing Blaine's waist, squeezing whenever the other boy's tongue did something especially pleasing.

After a few more moments of Blaine teasing with his mouth, Kurt answered him.

"No," he breathed. "No, that's not what I want."

"Well what do you want then?" Blaine said, pulling away.

"Uh, I think we both know what I want," Kurt admitted before he ducked his head again.

Blaine chuckled and seemed satisfied with himself. He grabbed Kurt's hand in his own – a strangely intimate action – before sliding the door shut behind them.

"And I won't disappoint…"

Without another word, he led Kurt through the barn.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked warily. He half expected a real ambush this time around.

"Calm down, stable boy." Blaine grinned when Kurt pursed his lips at the name. "I'm just taking you somewhere…" He let his eyes roam up and down Kurt without shame as he paused. "…Somewhere more _comfortable_."

Kurt hid his excitement well as he allowed himself to be guided past all the sleeping animals, the tools, and the parked tractors. It was only when Blaine led him to the base of a ladder that he grew suspicious again. He was especially apprehensive when Blaine gestured for him to go up first.

"Nuh uh," Kurt pulled his hand away and put it on his hip. "Hasn't your mother ever told you not to climb up ladders if you don't know where they lead?"

"No, but I don't think anyone's mom tells them that…"

"Well they _should_," Kurt said. "Why don't you go first?"

"Because I'd rather you went first," Blaine cocked his eyebrows. He brushed away a strand of brown hair from Kurt's forehead before kissing him full on the lips until Kurt was dizzy. "There are certain parts of you I want a better look at."

Kurt's jaw dropped at the direct statement, but he was too light-headed to seriously protest any more; surely a part of Blaine's plan.

He stepped up to the ladder, but swiveled around to make one last remark. "I don't trust you."

"I never asked you to trust me," Blaine smiled. "I asked you to climb a ladder."

In a seemingly permanent state of self-consciousness, Kurt gripped the rungs of the ladder and began to climb. He could practically feel Blaine's gaze fixed on every indecent part of him, yet he couldn't help but like it a little bit.

After an excruciatingly long climb, Kurt hoisted himself up on the platform at last. A small room was stretched out in front of him. There was a window to his left that was propped open and letting moonlight stream onto the wooden floor. In the silver light, he could see traces of hay covering the floor, a small pile of it collected in the corner. There was a mat on the ground with a few blankets folded beside of it. Next to that was a crate of books, all seeming to be torn on the edges with well-worn spines. On top of the crate flickered a single candle.

He heard rather than saw Blaine clambering onto the platform behind him.

"Please tell me you don't live here," Kurt gave Blaine and incredulous look.

"I don't," Blaine defended himself. "This is where I come to…think," he finished lamely.

Kurt felt a little invasive being there since it seemed a little personal to Blaine, but he continued to admire the small space.

"And what, pray tell, would one Blaine Anderson have to think about?" he asked playfully.

"Nothing that's of your concern," Blaine joked. "Besides, that's not what I brought you up to the hay loft for."

"Oh?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "What did you bring me up here for then?"

Blaine opted not to answer at all, but instead to cover Kurt's mouth with his own. He pressed hot, hard kisses to Kurt's lips, forcing them open.

Kurt didn't even try to fight it this time, he just let Blaine cup his face between his hands and tangle his fingers in Kurt's hair. He allowed Blaine to push him backwards as he bit down on Kurt's lower lip; he let Blaine's tongue snake uninvited into his mouth and take as it pleased. He didn't even protest when they were falling onto the mat or when he felt hay in his hair.

He just closed his eyes and enjoyed it. He would've never _admitted_ that he was enjoying it, but he was sure that his body was betraying him in that area. He moaned loudly as Blaine's hands slipped beneath his t-shirt and caressed his stomach.

Blaine chuckled as he continued to kiss Kurt and simultaneously move his hands higher and higher. In a second he had the shirt pushed up and was pulling it over Kurt's head. Kurt's skin felt damp and heated already in the cool night air and he grimaced as Blaine balled up the shirt and threw it into the corner.

"Hey," he protested. "You could at least take care of my clothes."

Blaine said something decidedly rude about Kurt's clothes colored with a string of swear words that made Kurt's heart race.

Blaine straddled Kurt's waist and held his shoulders to the ground as he returned his attention to Kurt's mouth. Kurt boldly traced the edges of Blaine's lips with the tip of his tongue before grabbing Blaine's shirt and pulling him closer.

Kurt gasped when Blaine's hands roamed across his chest and pinched his nipples, rolling them between his fingers. No one had ever done that to him either, but it felt damn good the more Blaine tugged and squeezed. He was beginning to realize the more Blaine touched him that he still had a lot of things left to learn; things that only Blaine would be brave enough to show him.

Blaine smirked as he leaned back to pull of his own shirt. For the second time that day, Kurt lay back and admired Blaine's lean torso as it was revealed. He didn't have long to stare as Blaine moved back to kiss his neck. He gently bit down on Kurt's pale skin using his teeth to the advantage before licking up the sweat lingering there.

Kurt pressed his head into the mat and intertwined his fingers into Blaine's curls, holding him securely to his body. If there was one thing for certain, it was that he needed more of this in his life and he needed it now. Blaine continued moving down, nipping at Kurt's shoulders and kissing his skin erotically. He trailed downward, pausing only to draw one of Kurt's nipples into his mouth and run his tongue across the peak momentarily.

Kurt pulled Blaine's hair from the flurry of heat that was jetting throughout his body. It was all caused by Blaine, and the boy knew it, too. Blaine hummed, sounding amused as he pressed his mouth to Kurt's abdomen as he undid the button on his jeans.

"I believe I owe you something," he teased.

Within seconds the zipper was down and Blaine was peeling off Kurt's jeans to join the pile of abandoned clothes. Kurt lifted up his hips to help, but that was all he could do before Blaine was back on top of him, nuzzling Kurt's erection with his lips. Even through the thin fabric of his undergarment, the small contact was driving Kurt insane and already threatening to put him over the edge; he was so turned on.

Using his teeth, Blaine pulled down the fabric and left Kurt fully exposed. Kurt couldn't even bear to look, he was so on edge.

"This isn't your first time doing this, is it?" Blaine asked offhandedly as he took Kurt into his hand and began to stroke slowly.

"No," Kurt panted, covering his eyes with his elbow. "It just feels…" he trailed off as Blaine's movements sped up by the smallest fraction.

"It feels what?" Blaine insisted.

"Different…" Kurt struggled with words. "Better."

"Good," Blaine said before releasing Kurt.

Before Kurt could argue against this turn of events, he felt Blaine's lips around his hard erection. Again, he was using his tongue as a device of torture; running it along the underside and wrapping it around every which way. Kurt moved his hips slightly, inviting Blaine to take him in further.

But still Blaine kept the pace frustratingly slow, deliberately taking Kurt as far as he could manage before lingering and coming back up to the tip which he sucked on. Kurt was moaning and breathless after a few moments of this. He dug his heels into the mat trying to stay strong, but Blaine's mouth was making him want to collapse into a heap.

Blaine used his teeth to rake across the sensitive skin of Kurt's cock before finally settling in and easing into a rhythm, He used his hand to pump the base as his lips worked on the upper part, sipping and sucking Kurt until he saw stars.

Kurt made the mistake of propping himself up on his elbows and looking down. It was almost too much to take, watching Blaine's mouth move along him and his circled hand moving up and down. But he was mesmerized; he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. There was something so dirty about watching, but he was under Blaine's spell. The feeling increased tenfold when Blaine looked up and his hazel eyes made contact with Kurt's blue ones.

Blaine's eyebrow quirked up but he didn't look away. Neither did Kurt.

As he continued staring, Blaine quickened his pace, causing Kurt to squirm and feel as if he were about to burst. Kurt's tongue poked out and wet his lips anxiously as Blaine stared at him unblinking. He didn't last long in this manner, coming within seconds and letting his elbows slip out from beneath him. He was facing the ceiling and groaning as Blaine swallowed every single drop, not missing a beat.

"Do you like me a little better now?" Blaine asked from beneath Kurt's waist.

"I can't answer that question right now," Kurt declared. His brow was beaded with sweat and he felt the aftershocks coursing through him as his breathing slowed down.

"Fair enough," Blaine said triumphantly.

He pulled himself back up until he was hovering over Kurt's mouth. His lips were touching Kurt's but not moving, just sort of ghosting over them.

"Kiss me," Kurt whispered. He surprised himself by saying it, but he had.

He didn't even wait for Blaine to dignify it with a response, before pulling him down and kissing him anyways. If Blaine was against it, he didn't show any signs as he kissed back. Kurt stroked the other boy's cheek lightly and traced his hands down the curve of Blaine's neck and across his broad shoulders. He rubbed the other boy's back and dragged his nails down his spine slowly. He was allowing himself to touch Blaine and not be afraid of the repercussions for once; he was exploring every crevice, every hollow, and every piece that he could find.

Kurt listened to Blaine's breathing falter as he dipped his hands underneath Blaine's jeans. His hands roamed the hidden skin there - the warmth of his thighs, the curve of his ass - for a while before re-emerging. Without a second though, Kurt moved his hands to the buckle of Blaine's belt and was undoing it along with the snap of his jeans.

Blaine pressed himself into Kurt, anticipating what was next, but Kurt intended to take his time.

He slid down the zipper and pushed the jeans down to Blaine's ankles. He didn't even bother with Blaine's underwear, pulling out his already swollen cock through the slit in the fabric and rubbing his thumb across the tip.

Blaine tensed above Kurt and his kisses turned frantic, almost desperate. Kurt felt pleased with himself, matching the intensity of Blaine's mouth with his own.

"Touch me," Blaine pleaded, thrusting impatiently into Kurt's open hand again.

"But, Blaine, I _am_ touching you," Kurt smirked. To make his point, he palmed Blaine roughly until the other boy groaned.

"_Shit_," Blaine panted.

Kurt was caught off guard when Blaine crashed their lips together again in a frenzy. Teeth were clashing and being used as weapons, fingers were touching indecent places, and breathy pitches were escaping both their mouths. Blaine opened his mouth and Kurt's tongue met his own in a fast, wet dance.

He gave in and began moving his hand on Blaine. He moved all the way down to the bottom of his erection and squeezed harder as he moved back up. That seemed to do the trick and get Blaine whining.

"_Yes_," Blaine encouraged him. "Yes, keep going."

Kurt was enjoying it as much as Blaine was, so he didn't need to be told twice. He flicked his wrists a little faster and tightened his grip. When Blaine has pulled away, Kurt took advantage of the pause and brought his hand up to lick it. He chuckled as Blaine watched with wide eyes as Kurt's tongue danced over the tips of his own fingers.

He didn't hesitate to reach back down and resume his quick tempo without starting over. Blaine was so shocked and so taken by Kurt's dexterity that he ducked his head to the nape of Kurt's neck. Kurt could hear him breathing hard and felt Blaine's lips on his shoulder again, his hot breath covering the skin. As Kurt moved his slippery hand even faster, he felt Blaine bite down on his shoulder _hard_. Seeing how far gone Blaine was only made Kurt hard again, but he forced himself to focus on the other boy.

"Do you like _me_ any more right now?" Kurt teased, having the benefit of being in power this time.

"Fuck, don't ask me that," Blaine gasped.

Kurt didn't argue, but jerked Blaine off as fast as he could. He awaited Blaine's release as if it were his own, drunk off of the noises Blaine was making and the way his body was spasming above him. With another quick motion, he felt a slightly familiar stickiness spilling across his fist and dripping onto his stomach. Blaine moaned into Kurt's ear as he came and rocked his hips gently into the circle of Kurt's hand.

Blaine rolled off of Kurt when he was finished, lying next to him on the mat. Both of them were sweaty and a mess, but neither seemed to care at the moment. Kurt stuck out his arm to try and reach his boxer briefs, but ended up falling into a heap on the hay. He let out a short laugh as he grabbed the fabric and tugged it back over his hips. After that he was so tired that he didn't bother to get off of the ground even though it probably wasn't sanitary.

"So…" Kurt prompted.

"So…" Blaine mimicked him. Kurt could hear the smile in his voice.

"I should go then," Kurt sat up. "I mean, if that's all…"

"No," Blaine said quickly, disappointment evident in his voice. He recovered his confident demeanor quickly. "I mean…No, come here. I'm just getting started."

Kurt crawled back onto the mat. As Blaine kissed him, he realized he just might have found out what Blaine's weakness was: _him_.

* * *

><p><em>AN: What in the name of Glee have I wrought?_

_This was supposed to be a one-shot, but somewhere in the first section, my characters decided they wanted a plot._

_What do you think? Who would be interested if I continued? It won't be very many chapters, but I do have some good plans for it. **Tell me your thoughts and review** please, my lovely readers!_


	4. He Knows What to Do

"I _want_ you," Blaine murmured into Kurt's hair.

"Me?" Kurt snuggled closer, basking in the warmth of the other boy's body.

"Yes, you."

Kurt lay still as Blaine pressed soft kisses to his temple and up over his ear. There was nothing vulgar about the action, it gave only a pleasant, comforting sensation.

"I find that hard to believe," Kurt said.

"Believe it," Blaine told him. When Kurt flipped over to face him, there was no preface when Blaine kissed him. There was only silence, save the sweet sound of their parting lips and the rustle of the mat beneath them as their limbs tangled together. Blaine drew Kurt's lower lip into his mouth and paid it good attention before pulling away. He repeated, "_Believe it_."

Kurt rolled on top of Blaine, but with a little too much enthusiasm. Before he knew it he was falling…

He slammed into the wood panels of his bedroom floor with a crash, taking his all of his sheets and blankets with him until he was lying in a heap on the ground. His head was pounding and he could already feel the red marks on his cheek from the impact. But he didn't even bother getting up; he just closed his eyes and groaned loudly.

Every inch of his body was sore and he felt like he needed a good shower. Lord knew what hour he got home the night before, but his exhaustion was hinting at an ungodly hour.

He heard someone open his door, but he couldn't muster the strength to sit up and check who it was. Instead, he pulled one of the blankets further over his head as if he had the ability to camouflage in with the floor while he waited for the wrath of whomever it was.

"Kurt?" his dad asked in confusion. "What are you doing in bed?"

"I'm not in bed," Kurt grumbled in response.

"I thought you were out in the fields." Burt took a few steps into the room. "I just came back to the house to grab a few things and I hear this huge thump…" He trailed off. "Son, do you have any idea what time it is?"

Kurt's head exploded with pain as he chanced opening his eyes just a crack. The light streaming in from the window was harsh, but it had an orange tint to it, a sure sign that it was well past noon.

"I'll pass?" he asked, hoping his dad would let it slide. No such luck.

"It's three in the afternoon. Have you done anything today?"

Kurt racked his brain. Hundreds of sarcastic remarks were coming to his mind, many concerning snide statements about "fraternizing with the enemy" until he couldn't see straight. But he knew better than to say that out loud; it'd be too brash and much too out of line, not to mention controversial.

Instead, he stated the obvious. "I overslept."

"Yeah, I can see that," Burt replied with uncharacteristic bitterness. "Well if you feel like doing any work today – you know, _contributing_ to this family – then come downstairs and let me know. If not, just don't bother."

His footsteps, though not heavy, shook the wood panels Kurt was resting his head against as he listened to the even rhythm of his father's footfalls until they were down the hallway and long gone. A sense of guilt gripped him at last; his dad never got mad at him or called him out for slacking – mostly because he wasn't one to slack in the first place. Kurt had really let him down today.

He shook off the last few lingering images from his dream and stood up carefully. He didn't have the patience to make his bed, so he threw the sheets on top of the mattress in disarray instead. Tugging on a clean pair of jeans and a button up shirt, he stumbled towards the door of his room. He gave up on the buttons after thirty seconds of failed hand-eye coordination and just left he shirt open after deciding he just didn't give a damn.

Kurt exited the house in record time and sprinted towards the fields, using the tire tracks in the dirt as his guide. He found the truck parked near the corn stalks and the bed already piled high with fresh picked corn still in the husks. He heard chatter from a nearby row and decided to take his chances by racing down the aisle to see if he could find someone. Luckily, he saw Santana crouched by the ground, her dark braids shimmering in the afternoon sunlight.

"Hey," he greeted breathlessly, pausing to rest his hands on his knees.

She glanced at him briefly with a clear look of disgust before turning back to her work. Kurt knew that look well – she was pissed. She didn't address him, but instead turned over her opposite shoulder and called down the row.

"Hey, Puckerman! Look who decided to finally grace us with his presence." She turned back to him with narrowed eyes. "With his grimy, disheveled presence."

"Dude," Puck came closer, "I don't even _like_ this job and I was still here on time this morning. You've got some major explaining to do."

"Look, I know I'm late…"

"Late!" Santana laughed bitterly. "Isn't that cute, Puck? He said he was late."

"I know you guys probably aren't happy with me…" he tried again.

She waved a hand irritably to make him shut up before addressing him for the first time.

"Kurt, I know this is your family's business and you're at the top of the food chain and all, but we get paid less than minimum wage to get our asses out here in the field at the crack of dawn and _stay_ here until all the work is done. I don't know who you think you are showing up at almost four in the afternoon after we've done everything so that you can jump on the bandwagon and act like you actually gave a shit."

"But I do," he protested. "I just overslept a little."

"A little?" She stood up and took several steps up to Kurt, Puck towering behind her. "_A little? _It'd be nice if we all could sleep in 'til the day's almost over and still get paid, wouldn't it, Puck?"

"Sure would," he agreed.

Kurt held his hands up in front of his face in case she took a swing at him, which she very well could have. "I get it, I get it. I messed up. But I'm here now and I can help."

She shrieked wordlessly before lunging forward. Puck caught her arms and held her back as she kicked, trying to reach Kurt with the heel of her boots.

"Let me go!" she insisted, fighting Puck to the best of her ability, her bangs falling messily into her eyes as she struggled. "I can take him. I said let me at him!"

"It's not that I don't think you can't take him," Puck grunted. "I'm protecting _him_."

Hearing the commotion, Finn came running over. There was dirt stains on his shirt and he managed to look both tired and alarmed at the same time. Seeing that Puck had a firm grip on Santana, he went to stand in front of Kurt and put more space between the two.

"Alright, that's _enough_!" he bellowed.

Santana stopped kicking and trying to escape Puck's hold, choosing instead to bare her teeth at Kurt.

"I know where you live, Hummel. Be afraid. Be very afraid," she warned before throwing Puck's hands aside and stomping down the aisle muttering unintelligible Spanish under her breath. From his limited exposure to the language, Kurt managed to distinguish some choice swear words as she disappeared.

An awkward pause followed as none of the guys could figure out quite what to say. Kurt could see some already bleeding scratches on Puck's dark skin and Finn was looking like he'd had a really long day and it had just gotten worse.

"So…" Kurt nodded slowly. "That went well."

Finn turned on him, an angry look etched on his face.

"Where have you been all day?" he asked. "We could've really used your help today – we were short-handed. Wasn't it _your_ bright idea to harvest the crops so we could try to go to the market again soon?"

"Yeah, but…"

"I don't want to hear it!" Finn shouted, peeling his gloves off and balling them in his fist. He jabbed a finger towards his step-brother. "Okay, Kurt? I don't want to hear why you overslept, why you look like shit, or why you have hay in your hair."

"Why are you all so concerned with what I look like all the time?" Kurt muttered as he flushed deeply. He tried to subtly reach up to his hair and search for stray pieces of hay to pick out. By what he felt there, there were too many pieces to take care of. He groaned and gave up. "There's a really good explanation for all this, I swear," he fibbed.

"Well, we're waiting to hear it," Puck prompted, crossing his arms.

"Uh…" Kurt's mind went blank as the other two stared at him expectantly. "A really good explanation that can wait," he said in a rush. "We're here to work, right?" He tried to look enthusiastic. "Tell me what I can do."

Puck and Finn exchanged looks before letting it slide.

Finn rubbed his eyes. "Just…go. Just go pick corn or something and make yourself useful."

"Great!" Kurt chirped before turning on his heel to run away.

Puck shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Man, I'm telling you, Kurt is totally getting some."

"Can you not say that?" Finn groaned. "It sounds so…wrong."

"You're such a prude," Puck chided as he folded his sleeves back. "I think we can talk about Kurt getting laid without the Vatican coming down on us."

Finn snorted. "Whatever, I'm not a prude. Look, you're free to have your suspicions, dude, but do me a favor and keep them to yourself. I don't need anymore problems around here, especially ones about circulating rumors."

Puck held up his hands. "I'm just saying. He's doing a milkmaid or something. I can tell – I can always tell."

The other boy shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Puck, just shut up and get back to work. For all our sakes."

"Just saying," Puck repeated as he went back to work. "Don't say I didn't call it."

"I'll remember that," Finn promised as he jogged back to his position. "Catch ya later."

* * *

><p>Kurt was working on the last few rows of corn and creating orderly piles of the crop as he tried his best to work quickly. He wanted to regain the trust of his team by showing them he could support the work effort. He was far away from everyone else, deciding that he would have to work alone 'til the day was through just to be safe. He was quickly breaking a sweat and the breeze was refreshing against his hot skin.<p>

His only warning was the snap of a twig from behind him, which he dismissed, before a hand was covering his mouth, another tight around his waist, and pulling him backwards. Kurt dropped the ear of corn he was holding and watched as it rolled away. He tried to fight against his unseen attacker, but couldn't move.

"Shh…It's me," Blaine whispered in his ear.

A shiver of fear went down Kurt's spine – a shiver he couldn't say he didn't enjoy – as Blaine's breath warmed the tendrils of his hair and the lobe of his ear. He struggled less, but still tried to turn around to face Blaine. He'd been pulled a few rows away by the time Blaine stopped moving.

"Alright, I'll let go if you promise not to yell, okay?"

Kurt nodded in agreement as Blaine slowly lifted his hand away. He didn't waste a second before turning to face his captor.

"What are you _doing_ here?" he hissed at Blaine. "You can't be here, I'm supposed to be working."

"Yeah, I can see that," Blaine eyed his open shirt. "Who's the one with the lack of dress code now?" He reached out and lightly traced a pattern on the skin of Kurt's stomach.

Kurt inhaled sharply and look straight ahead, willing himself not to get lost in Blaine's soft touch.

"What you doing here?" he repeated, this time his voice barely qualifying as a whisper.

Blaine shrugged. "I came to check out this property of yours." He let his eyes dip over Kurt's exposed torso. "Maybe check out a few _other_ things, you never know." He gave Kurt a quick wink.

"And what's your verdict?" Kurt asked without thinking.

"As for the property, it's shit and doesn't compare to ours…"

Kurt glared at Blaine and readied himself to argue, but he was silenced when Blaine pressed one of his fingers to Kurt's lips.

"Where the _other_ things are concerned…" Blaine tilted Kurt's head upwards as he kissed his neck slowly. "They're up to my standards."

Kurt braced his hands on the side of Blaine's waist, considering pushing him away. But when Blaine's cool tongue met his skin and his kisses began turning downright _dirty_, Kurt couldn't bring himself to remember wanting to make him stop in the first place.

"Blaine can't this wait 'til later?" Kurt half-heartedly asked.

The other boy just chuckled as he moved his mouth upwards. "Is that an invitation?"

"If you leave, it could be," Kurt replied coolly.

Blaine grinned before resting his hands on either side of Kurt's face and pulling him forward. Kurt relaxed into the kiss, letting his lips mold against Blaine's as he simultaneously pressed his hips closer. Blaine's teeth grazed Kurt's mouth as he caught him in another, deeper kiss. There was a silent desperation in the way Blaine was moving against him, but his hands remained gently cupping Kurt's cheeks.

"Kurt?" Finn called from nearby.

Kurt extricated himself from Blaine and stepped away.

"You have to go," he warned, searching around to see if Finn would come discover them at any second.

"Can I see you later?" Blaine responded.

"Do I have a choice?" he retorted as he peered down the row of stalks.

"Do you want to say no?"

Damn, he had Kurt. "No," he admitted. "Just…go. Go and come back later."

Blaine took a few steps backwards. "Well, if you insist…"

Kurt spun back around to face Blaine, getting ready to hit him with a witty come back but when he looked back, the other boy was gone. If Kurt's lips hadn't felt a little swollen, he might've questioned if Blaine had even been there at all. He pushed his way back through the stalks to where he'd abandoned his work to find Finn walking up to him.

"Were you there just a second ago?" Finn asked in confusion. "I was looking for you but you'd disappeared off somewhere…Where did you go? I thought I heard voices."

"Voices?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Finn, if you're hearing voices, you've got bigger problems than trying to find me. I think you're losing it."

Finn looked heavenward before turning back to Kurt. "I'm not losing it. Just finish up whatever you can here so that we can head back. I know you just got started and all, but it's been a rough day on all of us."

"No problem," Kurt told him. "I'll be done with this in no time."

"Good." Finn patted him roughly on the back, causing Kurt to stumble forward a step. "Meet us by the truck."

Ten minutes later, the vehicle was all loaded up with Puck sitting in the bed of the truck.

"Hurry up, Hummel. We've got better things to do than wait on your ass _again_," he called.

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt grumbled, unloading his arms and walking around the truck.

"You should be thanking me," Puck said. "Santana wanted to ditch you and make you walk back. But I was kind enough to insist that we wait for you. _I'm_ polite."

"Yes, I can see that," Kurt replied sarcastically. He slid into the cab of the truck where Finn was already sitting behind the wheel and Santana was crammed in the middle space with her arms crossed haughtily. He closed the door behind him quickly and cringed as an awkward silence ensued.

"Don't even try to talk to me, Hummel," Santana advised as she held up a hand. "You're on my bad list."

Kurt scooted a little further away and rolled down the window a bit as Finn revved the engine. They drove back towards the house in silence.

* * *

><p>"You feeling any better, sweetie?" Carole asked, sitting on the edge of Kurt's bed.<p>

Kurt faked a harsh round of coughing. "Maybe a little bit," he croaked. "I could try and get up if you guys really need me to put in an appearance." He propped himself up but was pushed back down onto the mattress almost immediately.

"No, no," she insisted. "You just focus on getting well and we can manage tonight without you."

The Hummel-Hudsons had been invited to a statewide dinner where all the big name agricultural executives and stockholders would be gathering for the evening. It wasn't their style per say, but it came with the territory of being a big-name business; a necessary evil.

As Carole pressed a cool cloth to Kurt's forehead, she was dressed in her best dress with a thin strand of pearls hung around her neck. Kurt admired how pretty she looked and almost felt a little bad for playing sick.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. "I could…"

"Not another word," she shushed him, pulling his sheets higher. "I know your father's a little upset with you, but you don't have to try to make it up to him when you don't feel well. Even your father can understand the concept of illness."

Kurt laughed weakly. "I hope so. He was pretty angry."

"Don't worry about it. Tomorrow is another day," she reassured him before standing up. "I've left some warm soup on the stove if you want some food. Do you want me to bring it up?"

"No," he said hastily. He didn't need her kindness to make him feel even worse about himself. "I can manage. I'll probably sleep anyways."

"Well, alright…" She still looked unsure, but just patted his hands with a smile before turning away. Before she closed the door, she said one last thing. "We'll be back late. Bye, darling." She gave a small wave which he returned.

"Have fun," he told her. She beamed at him before closing the door with a small click.

He lay in bed, listening carefully to a chatter of voices downstairs (no doubt some of the other workers would tag along for the evening – no one he knew could resist the opportunity to dress up in something besides denim) for a while until eventually a slamming door signaled their exit. He tucked his hands behind his head as he waited for the sound of an engine. He impatiently got up and tip-toed over to the window, carefully pulling back the curtain the tiniest fragment possible to allow himself to see the dirt driveway.

A few vehicles pulled out of the driveway, leaving a dust clouds and some exhaustion in their wake. Kurt breathed a little easier when they were out of sight, dropping the curtain and turning back to his mess of a room. He frowned, unsure of the protocol concerning the proper good-looking house guests to dirty shirts ratio per room. He decided to stay in his grey sweatpants and change into a dark blue t-shirt before piling all the excess clothes haphazardly into the closet. It was a tight fit, but eventually he was able to slide the door shut, concealing the dirty clothes.

When he'd cleaned his room as much as he could manage (he still wanted it to look lived in) he began to pace. Now all he had to do left was wait. Turns out there were a lot of things to do while he waited. He brushed his hair, he fixed his bed, he wandered downstairs to eat the soup Carole had left him. When he put his empty bowl in the sink, he realized how the dishes had piled up and he just _had_ to wash them all by hand. He reorganized his bookshelf alphabetically and brushed his teeth – twice.

After about an hour – a very productive hour – Kurt was beginning to feel impatient. He wandered out to the back porch and sat down on the wooden floor right in front of the door. Crossing his legs beneath him, he sat up straighter, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He meditated for a while, just focusing on his deep breathing – in and out in even increments. When he was just beginning to feel a little more calm, his concentration was broken.

"Hey," Blaine greeted him, leaning against the porch railing as if he did it all the time.

Kurt gave a horrible start and put his hand to his chest. "_Jeez_, where did you even come from? A little warning would be nice," he said irritably.

"Didn't realize I'd be interrupting something," Blaine smirked. "Should I come back later then? I mean, what you were doing looked _very_ important…"

"How long were you there?" Kurt felt himself blushing as his voice rose an octave.

"Long enough," Blaine answered with a knowing grin. "I'll go then…"

"No!" Kurt squeaked. "I was just…sitting. I'm done now." He stood up quickly, teetering a little bit as the blood rushed back to his legs.

Suddenly, he felt nervous; the kind of nervous that makes palms sweat and makes a person painfully self-conscious of themselves and their surroundings. He realized he'd never really had someone over, let alone a _guy_, and furthermore someone he wasn't even sure he liked as a _human being_. As something to objectify, _definitely_. As anything else? He wasn't sure yet.

"So this is where you live," Blaine mused, ignoring Kurt's silence. "Not what I imagined, I'll admit."

"What did you imagine?" Kurt asked. He was intrigued that Blaine had given him any thought at all, really.

"Something fancier," the other boy shrugged. "Goes to show how much I know, I guess."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at the speculation, unsure if he was being insulted or not. He decided to let it slide against his natural reflex to argue.

"Want to come inside?"

"If that's allowed," Blaine replied with a smile.

For some reason he was acting nicer than usual and Kurt felt wary, but opened the door anyways and let Blaine walk in first. After he'd shut the door behind them, Kurt turned back around, absent-mindedly wondering if he was obliged to give the grand tour or not, but when he did, Blaine had disappeared.

Kurt looked around the room, but there was no sign of him.

"Blaine?" he called, feeling a little awkward.

"I'm upstairs," Blaine called back.

Kurt rolled his eyes in annoyance. There was the pretentious Blaine he knew and hated. He dashed up the stairs and looked both ways down the hallway. There was no one there.

"This is a very clean room," Blaine commented from down the hall. "I'm impressed."

Kurt walked to his room and, sure enough, the door was flung open and Blaine was lying spread-eagle on top of his bed. He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching Blaine.

The curly headed boy propped himself up on his elbows. "I'm not an expert by any means, but I think this would work best if you were closer." He patted the space of mattress next to him suggestively.

"I was just admiring the view," Kurt smirked. He let his eyes fix purposefully on the front of Blaine's jeans, drinking in the sight from the angle he was at. He saw Blaine squirm a little which gave him a strange sense of satisfaction.

Kurt decided _to hell_ with being polite, he was going to walk over there and wipe that smug expression off Blaine's face.

So he did.

* * *

><p>There are moments that seem to last forever; that stretch out for such long periods that they become dreaded – torturous. They quickly become the bane of one's existence because it's in those painfully extensive lulls that anything can happen; bad things, good things, things you regret, and things you grow to love.<p>

It's the fleeting moments that really matter.

Those minutes that slip too quickly through a person's fingers, when they can almost feel each individual tick of the clock disappearing and when the thing they want most is the one thing that's evaporating more and more: time. How quickly the present transitions into the past; so quickly that most people don't realize it. As soon as one action, one sentence, one breath is completed, it's over and done with – it's in the past. And though that one moment might be seared into their memory for the rest of their lives with stunning clarity, the moment is gone and there's no going back.

No, the only thing a person can do is rush forward. They can only absorb these moments and commit them to memory consciously. These moments of feeling frantic and _needing_; of _wanting_ and feeling too much. Those moments that should never end.

Then there's the heat.

All Kurt could feel was heat. All he could see was heat – red behind his lids. All he knew in this moment was heat. The burning feel of Blaine's flesh pressed flush against his own, the slight stubble across Blaine's chin bristling against his cheeks, his neck, his chest, and the impossible softness of Blaine's lips meeting his own with tenacity and boldness. There were insistent hands, intrepid thrusts of hips against one another - the desperate nature of skin on skin. In these moments, there was no time for talking, no time for stopping, no time to do anything but what felt right.

Blaine's jeans had been dealt with almost immediately and lay forgotten on the floor along with Kurt's shirt. With sure hands, Kurt helped Blaine shed his upper layer. When that was no longer in the picture and Blaine was back kneeling over him, Kurt let his fingers drag along the other boy's sides, exploring the dip of his hipbones, the tough skin of his stomach, and the curves of his chest and shoulders.

Kurt let his lips linger at the hollow of Blaine's throat before moving upward until he could draw Blaine's earlobe into his mouth. He'd discovered it was one of Blaine's weak spots, and _oh_ how he did love taking advantage of those spots every chance that he could. He nibbled, sucked, and licked until Blaine was panting and moaning above him, practically convulsing with need. Kurt smirked before turning his attention to the other ear and giving it the same treatment, taking a few seconds to whisper naughty nothings directly into the other boy's ear. He watched with pleasure as Blaine's skin grew red beneath his mouth and how the boy above him was coming undone.

Blaine wasted no time in shoving Kurt's sweatpants, underwear and all, down and over his hips until they were pooled in a messy heap towards the end of the bed. Kurt couldn't say he didn't enjoy this turn of events when Blaine took his already hard length in his hand and slowly moved until Kurt was clenching his teeth. Blaine was leaning over Kurt and watching his features go from relaxed to surprised to sheer ecstasy in a matter of seconds. Kurt hastily reached down and fumbled with the waistband of Blaine's boxers before his fingertips met the skin he was hoping to find there; heated, hard, and waiting. He began moving his hand quickly, trying to match his strokes with Blaine's as they continued to watch one another. Their lips were grazing and their harsh breaths were intermingling, but neither gave in to the temptation to kiss the other senseless. Kurt was whining and Blaine was cursing after a few moments of silence save the sound of their movements and the occasional groan of the bed beneath them.

Suddenly, and without any warning, just when Kurt felt so close to going over the edge that he might go blind, Blaine had him flipped over and facing the pillows. Before he could ask, Blaine was answering his unspoken question.

"Just relax. I want to try something with you. Something good," he purred.

Kurt turned to press his cheek into the pillow feeling vulnerable as he felt rather than saw Blaine assessing him. The curly headed boy was moving down the bed and pressing long, wet kisses down Kurt's spine, past his waistline, and to places he'd never had someone's lips touch before.

He let out a loud gasp when he felt Blaine's lips move from his backside all the way down to his ankles. He felt himself grow tense from the sensory overload as Blaine's mouth alternated on both of his calves, the back of his kneecaps, the lower part of his thighs; tongue darting out occasionally, teeth nibbling certain patches of sensitive skin. Kurt grabbed fistfuls of the pillow and wet his lips hungrily as Blaine made his way upwards. His stubble scratched the insides of Kurt's thighs as he paused to pay homage to the silky skin there. He sucked and sipped until Kurt was digging his knees into the mattress and begging Blaine to go on.

What to expected, Kurt didn't exactly know. He grew slightly wary as Blaine gripped his hips tightly, but before he could wonder what was going to happen next, he felt Blaine's mouth drawing closer to his entrance. When his tongue traced the edges of it, Kurt was beside himself with desire. Blaine moved his hands from Kurt's hips to spread him apart even further as his talented mouth did things Kurt had only imagined were possible before. Kurt was gritting his teeth and moving against the mattress beneath him, the friction giving him little relief from the growing sexual need.

Blaine's tongue darted inside of Kurt, causing him to cry out.

"_Fuck_, Blaine," he panted. "Just…holy _shit_…"

Blaine chuckled as he repeated his actions, going deeper and lingering in all the right places. He used his hands to knead Kurt's ass and run his fingernails along Kurt's thighs, enticing breathy whimpers from him.

"I can't hold off much longer," Kurt admitted, burying his sweaty face in the pillows.

"Then don't," mumbled Blaine.

He sucked hard and traced the edges with the tip of his tongue, teasing and luring at the same time. He nudged Kurt's thigh, encouraging him to prop up a little bit so that Blaine could reach beneath him. The second Kurt obliged, he felt Blaine's hand on his erection once more, the movements of his hand frantic and messy. He paused to swipe his thumb over the tip and spread the stickiness already present there as his tongue darted in and out of Kurt's entrance faster than before.

Kurt bucked back towards Blaine's mouth overwhelmed with the splintering sensations coursing through his veins. He felt Blaine's hand squeezing his cock tighter and moving deliberately now.

"Let go," Blaine told him.

At that, he did.

As soon as Blaine's mouth was resuming its work combined with the fervency of the other boy jerking him off, Kurt came. And he came fast and hard, thrusting into the circle of Blaine's hand and spilling over his fist and the sheets beneath him. But the latter was hardly his concern as he squeezed his eyes shut and rode out his orgasm for all it was worth, moaning and gasping for air until all of the energy was drained from his body. He collapsed into a sweaty, sticky mess when he was completely finished, almost imagining that he could see stars from the intensity of it all.

His breathing eventually slowed as Blaine made his way back up to the headboard.

"Wow…" was all Kurt could think to say.

"You're telling me," Blaine mumbled. "That was insanely hot."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. "Blaine what are we doing?" he asked suddenly. "I thought you didn't like me, but you just said I was hot…" The open sentence hung in the air for a moment.

"Nothing," Blaine shrugged. "We're having fun. We're doing what feels good, right?" he asked with a smug half-smile.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "Yeah we are. But I really thought you hated me."

"Hate is a strong word. Why should it be about that? Why can't it just be about…us? Doing what we want? I like making you feel good," Blaine admitted. "I mean, I _really_ like making you feel good. So why can't we just keep it at that without letting feelings get in the way?"

Well, there were a million reasons why they shouldn't coming to Kurt's mind when Blaine asked that, but none of those reasons were a strong as his desire to never stop. He knew they were beyond the point of giving each other up now.

"I'm for it if you are," he offered.

"Agreed," Blaine said. "So speaking of feeling good, I could use a little help right now." He looked down at the bulge in his boxers.

"And I'd be happy to comply," Kurt grinned as he knelt over Blaine, positioning his mouth near the obtrusion in the fabric.

Without removing the article of clothing, Kurt began to suck and draw Blaine's length into his mouth, thoroughly wetting the fabric in a matter of minutes. He ran his teeth along the hard length, pausing here and there to bite or let his tongue curl around the covered head. When Blaine was nice and hard, _then_ Kurt pulled down his boxers until the purpling flesh was exposed. He tossed the useless garment over his shoulder without a glance backwards before properly taking Blaine's cock in his mouth for the first time.

And, _oh_, it was better than he dreamed. It was smooth and the skin was ironically soft though it was taught. He licked the tip and used the edges of his lips at first, taking it in bit by bit. For every time he returned to the tip, he went down a fraction further, getting used to the new feeling. After a few minutes of sucking Blaine off – to his vocal encouragement – Kurt's tongue ventured out and wrapped around Blaine's cock, running along the sensitive underside carefully. He felt Blaine's fingers coiling in his hair and gripping tightly every time he did something right – which seemed to be often. He hummed appreciatively, secretly enjoying the way Blaine's fingertips felt pressed against his scalp. When he'd almost reduced Blaine to a complete mess, he removed his mouth and backed away.

"_Fuck_. No," Blaine complained. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," Kurt assured him.

Kurt watched with amusement as Blaine's eyes went wide when he lifted his hand to his mouth and begin sucking the fingertips. He drew his own middle finger deep into his mouth along with the index finger, keeping eye contact with Blaine as he did. The other boy was watching, completely entranced as Kurt wet each finger individually.

"It's my turn," he muttered before becoming eye-level with Blaine's thighs.

Using the same method as Blaine, he kissed the other boy's thighs up and up until he reached that coveted area. Blaine was panting and gripping the sheets as Kurt worked his tongue in slowly, sucking and licking wherever he could reach, getting it nice and wet. When he was completely satisfied with his handy work, he dared to run his pinky around the edges of Blaine's entrance, silently taunting him.

"Do it, Kurt," Blaine begged. "Please. I want you to."

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, but didn't back down. He slipped in one finger; just a small increment, the surface still slick with saliva. When he'd worked it in all the way, Blaine was whimpering. Slowly, Kurt began to move the digit in and out, taking care not to hurt him. Well his worries were short-lived when Blaine quickly responded to the movement, meeting his small thrusts with enthusiasm and wanting more.

"More," he panted. "I need more." When he sensed Kurt's hesitation, Blaine reassured him. "I can take it, trust me. Just…" His breathing became harsh. "Give me more."

Kurt carefully inserted another finger, feeling Blaine readjust around the new addition before resuming his pace. Another stream of glorious curse words left Blaine's mouth as he threw his head back into the pillows. Kurt could hear his toes curling against the sheets and could practically _feel_ his heart picking up pace. Kurt lowered his mouth back to Blaine's entrance, reading from Blaine's body language that he needed still more. He alternated moving in his two fingers and using his tongue to penetrate Blaine until the other boy was all but kicking his legs in ecstasy.

Blaine impatiently grabbed his own erection, which had grown to look almost painfully hard, and began pleasuring himself as Kurt continued his work down below. He'd slid in another finger, thrusting furiously, trying to get Blaine off as quickly as possible. He looked up through his lashes to watch as Blaine jerked himself off quickly, observing the way he touched himself. Blaine was using his free hand to pinch his nipple, rolling it between his fingers and twisting it, groaning as he did. The sight of it was almost enough to make Kurt come again right there, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

He thrust his fingers as far as they could go, using his tongue to lap at the edges. Blaine moved his hand even faster, digging his heels into the bed and arching upwards as he did so. It only took a few more similar motions until Blaine was tensing and coming. Kurt could feel Blaine pulsating around him as he came across his own stomach. Kurt carefully removed his fingers one by one before licking Blaine's entrance again, feeling the heated and surely sensitive skin until he was sure Blaine was finished. When Blaine's hand went limp and his loud breathing was the prominent sound in the room, Kurt propped himself up and moved over Blaine's sticky stomach.

He experimentally stuck out his tongue, tasting the salty bitterness there. When he realized it was tolerable and that he maybe sort of liked it, he licked it up – every last drop. He sucked on Blaine's stomach and pressed dirty open-mouthed kisses to it until he was sure he hadn't missed a spot. When he was done with that, he crawled back up the mattress until he and Blaine were eye-level once more.

Without asking permission, Kurt bent down and kissed Blaine, softly and tentatively at first. When it became clear that Blaine wasn't going to protest and, in fact, put his hands into Kurt's hair to pull him closer, the kiss turned hard and messy. Kurt thrust his tongue into Blaine's mouth, sweeping it around and allowing Blaine to taste the splendor that was himself. Blaine groaned and sucked on Kurt's tongue gently, utilizing his teeth against it before Kurt could draw back.

"You're good," Blaine complimented, sounding winded. "Too good."

"I know," Kurt said happily.

"Get back here," the other boy beckoned Kurt before capturing his lips again.

They were going for round two.

* * *

><p>Kurt's eyes flew open. He felt dazed and sleepy. But even in his distant haze, he could feel Blaine's arm heavy across his waist from behind him. They must've dozed off, he thought. Then he heard the sound that had woken him up in the first place: cars.<p>

"Get up," Kurt hissed, pushing Blaine. The other boy wouldn't budge, just groaned in his sleep. "Blaine!" Kurt pushed him again, this time with enough force to send him rolling off the bed. Blaine landed on the floor with a loud thump.

"Damn," Blaine groaned from the floor. "You sure know how to wake a guy up, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, whatever," Kurt hastily apologized. "But you have to go, _now_. I hear people outside."

Blaine jumped up, eyes wide with comprehension. The both of them went wandering around the room, blindly groping for their respective pieces of clothing.

"I think this is yours," Kurt tossed the black shirt to Blaine.

"Yeah, and these are yours," Blaine handed Kurt back the sweatpants.

Both of them tugged on their clothes quickly as Kurt tried to remake the bed to the best of his ability in the dark.

"If you're going to go, go now," Kurt ordered, feeling panicked. He gestured towards the door to give Blaine the hint. "Hurry, before they come inside."

"You think I'm going to take the stairs?" Blaine asked incredulously. "I'm a little classier than that."

"You're going to take the _window_?" Kurt whispered angrily. "Are you an idiot?"

"No," Blaine answered. "I'm just not taking any chances of running into anyone downstairs. Now if you'll excuse me…"

He walked over to the window opposite Kurt's bed and pushed up the window pane. There was a tall tree near the window and Blaine hopped onto the window sill. With one last look back at Kurt, he gave one last smile before lowering himself onto the nearest branch. Kurt watched in awe as Blaine lithely descended the tree and disappeared into the brush quickly.

He whirled around when he heard his door creaking open. The person opening the door flicked on the light switch, casting a bright light throughout the room. Kurt shielded his eyes from the blinding light so he could see the offender. Carole stood in the doorway looking mildly confused.

"Kurt, honey, what are you doing out of bed? Don't you know what time it is?"

"Oh yeah," he improvised, searching for an excuse. "I just had to open the window because it was so hot." He fanned himself for good measure.

"Well, you do look a bit flushed, dear," she commented. "Maybe you're coming down with a fever. Here, get back under the covers while I go get you a cool towel."

"Thanks, Mom," he said, feeling relieved. "That'd be great."

"Alright, I'll be right back. And when I get back you'd better be in bed, young man." She exited the room as quickly as she'd entered it.

Kurt stuck his head out of the window. He thought he saw a figure running down the dirt path and away from the house. The figure paused to wave back at Kurt before taking off again and disappearing into the nearest field.

Kurt waved back sadly, feeling strangely lonely for the first time in a long while.

He crawled back into bed and accepted Carole's offering of a cool towel before drifting off in a fitful sleep.

* * *

><p><em>AN: And there you have it, folks - the latest installment of this story. I figure I'm going to have fun with some more smut scenes while slowly progressing the plot, if that's okay with y'all (;_

_I also neglected to mention the fact that I've been back in school for the past couple of weeks already. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy school, but it makes finding time to write **very** difficult. So I'm doing my best (:_

_**Review and tell me what you thought, please!** I adore all of your feedback :D_


	5. Buying What He's Selling

_A/N: No, I haven't forgotten about this story. In fact, it seems like I've been writing this chapter forever. Literally, adding a few paragraphs every day for the past week or so. I assume many of you are either in high school or full-time college students like myself, so I hope that you can empathize with me when I say **it hasn't been easy** writing and juggling my other responsibilities. But I'm still going at it._

_Hope this can hold you over til the next update, which I can truthfully say I have no idea when that will be up. But hang in there with me, dear perverts. Read on (:_

* * *

><p>Kurt was in pain.<p>

Wholesome, physical pain that radiated from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair. The kind that left a person drained of energy and as empty as a barren wasteland.

It'd been days, no, _weeks_ since he'd last seen Blaine. And since then he hadn't heard so much as a word or caught a glimpse of his competitor. He'd lost count of how many times he'd had the urge to sneak out and drive over to the opposing ranch just to lay eyes on him.

That's how far gone he was. He was _craving_ Blaine. Kurt would lick his lips just thinking about him and all the things they could do together. He thought about it all the time; in the morning, as he worked, and at night. _Especially_ at night. The lack of contact was being overcompensated for in Kurt's active imagination.

He couldn't pinpoint the moment that his mild interest had turn into a full-blown addiction, but he knew now that it was unstoppable. He was literally going through withdrawal. Sometimes, if he tried hard enough, he could imagine Blaine's hands ghosting over his skin or the way he tasted.

But mostly he felt raw, empty, completely alone. It was as if Blaine had become a part of him and now that he wasn't around, Kurt was painfully aware of that fact. It was as if something was missing, like maybe a limb or a vital organ. It synonymous to that constant feeling of walking into a room and forgetting why he was there always nagging at the back of his mind.

But either way, he was aching. What he wouldn't give to see Blaine's golden brown eyes, to graze his lips, to run his fingers along Blaine's torso, to press their hips together, to set his mouth to…

"Kurt…"

Kurt's head snapped to attention and he could feel his cheeks burning red. He could feel everyone's eyes on him and he was sure there was a spot of drying drool on his cheek.

"Yes," he answered cautiously.

"I was asking you if you were ready," Burt answered slowly. "But you were daydreaming."

"I'm fine," Kurt answered quickly, trying to cover up his embarrassment. "I was listening the whole time." His father looked at him expectantly. "…Ready for what?"

Burt gave an exasperated sigh. "Ready to go to the sell again."

"Oh," Kurt flushed deeply as he heard a few of the other employees laughing under their breath. "Yeah, almost. Maybe tomorrow."

"We need this, Kurt," his father said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "We really need this right now and you're the best. You always have the best numbers…"

"Yeah, okay," Kurt agreed quickly. "Tomorrow. I'll get everything ready today and we'll be all set to go in the morning bright and early, hopefully before anyone else gets there."

"Sounds like a good plan," Burt replied, making a note on his clipboard. "Okay, unofficial meeting adjourned." He mimicked slamming a gavel down, to the amusement of his employees before everyone stood up and walked out of the dining room.

Kurt avoided making eye contact with anyone until the room was cleared. He coughed awkwardly and walked over to where his dad was standing looking over some papers.

"Listen, Dad…"

"I need you focused, Kurt," his father cut him off swiftly. "You know how hard it's been the past month…"

"I know," Kurt answered, feeling exceedingly guilty. "I know that it's been difficult. I'm sorry…"

Burt held up a hand. "Sorry isn't going to cut it, kiddo. You've been so off lately: always daydreaming, forgetting what you were doing, you even look a little off…"

A hand flew to his cheek reflexively. "I'm fine," Kurt said. "Just fine. I'll try harder."

"That's what I don't understand," Burt mused aloud. "I know that you're trying, son. Really, I do. I just don't know what's going on with you."

"That's because nothing's going on with me," Kurt said, probably too loudly than was called for. "I'm alright. Honestly." Burt gave him a doubtful look. "It'll be great. Tomorrow, I mean."

"You'd better hope so, for all our sakes," Burt warned.

"No pressure then," Kurt laughed nervously.

"Absolutely none," Burt joked. "But in all seriousness, I need you on top of your game. Depending on how things work out, we might be in for more trouble this week."

"Trouble?" Kurt prompted.

"I don't want to worry you – nothing's final yet, but it'll be sorted out in the next day or so. I just need you to be on your toes."

"Consider it done," Kurt replied, his interest piqued.

As he turned on his heel and exited the room, he absentmindedly wondered how anything could possibly get any worse than it already was. He sighed deeply as he made his way to his work station, feeling more tired than before.

* * *

><p>Too soon. It was too soon. His clock had to be wrong because there was no way that it could already be almost five in the morning. Kurt groaned and shut his eyes tight. How could it be that it felt as if he'd just fallen asleep minutes before, but now the digits on the clock were telling him it'd been hours since?<p>

He rolled out of bed, knowing he was behind schedule already. He tugged on his best black jeans paired with a black button down shirt and, as an afterthought, he attached white suspenders to finish the look.

Kurt tugged on his shoes hastily, hopping towards the door as he did. He nearly knocked himself unconscious by doing so, but he didn't stop to catch his breath as he flew down the stairs.

"You were almost late," Burt called as Kurt jogged towards the line of loaded trucks.

"I know," he panted. "Is everything ready?"

"Taken care of," Finn said, giving his step brother a half-smile. "I double checked everything. All we have to do is go fill those orders and get some new ones." He patted Kurt on the shoulder. "But you can do that for us."

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "Let's go."

A few hours later, after dropping off their orders for private customers, they made their way to the marketplace. It was wide and spacious, full of continuous hustle and bustle. Everyone within fifty miles knew that this was the place to go to obtain the freshest produce.

Kurt stepped out of the truck, slamming the door behind him, and paused to admire it for a moment. The stands, the vendors, the constant hum of noise as customers chattered in the early morning pierced by the occasional shout of an advertisement – slashed prices for the next five minutes only. It was familiar, welcome.

This place used to be their domain; their monopoly over the industry had lasted long, but none of them had imagined that one competitor would cause so much trouble and discord. Now half of their previously loyal customers wouldn't even look them in the eye as they made their rounds.

"It's like we have some kind of disease," Puck muttered as they started through the pathway between booths.

"It's worse than that," Finn groaned. "It's like we have a _social_ disease."

"Stop it," Kurt hissed. "There's nothing wrong with _us_," he said loudly, "There's only the people we thought we could trust who turned out to be fickle."

"Someone's testy this week," Puck noted.

Kurt flounced ahead. "I just don't tolerate betrayal is all," he replied tartly.

"Yeah, well, if you want to take your frustration out on someone, you should take it out on the Anderson Ranch, not the customers," Finn told his step-brother. "They're just trying to do what's best for themselves. It's the ranch you should be telling off."

"Oh, don't think I _won't_," Kurt snarled as he spun around on his heels to face the two. "The next time I see that Blaine Anderson, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. And by the time I'm done with him…He'll wish he never moved to Ohio in the first place," he muttered.

"Why don't you tell that to his face?" Puck taunted.

"I will," Kurt replied. "At the earliest chance I get."

"That chance would be now," Puck said with amusement. "He and his posse are right over there."

Kurt felt himself go pale. It was like he could feel each individual droplet of blood draining from his face and leaving it a shockingly white color. He didn't need a mirror to tell that he looked terrible – he could sense it. He was holding his breath and staring pointedly at the ground, petrified with fear.

He thought he'd be relieved or at least a little bit excited at the prospect of seeing Blaine again – especially since it had been pure and utter hell without him. But he didn't feel relieved in the slightest. Instead he felt trapped. Every synapse in his body was telling him to run or at the very least hide. He was scared to face the man he barely knew yet felt so many emotions towards.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked, placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "You look sick."

"I'm fine," Kurt said stiffly. His voice had risen noticeably an octave or two just the way it always did when he was nervous. "I was just…thinking."

"About what you're going to tell that punk over there, I hope," Puck said, flexing his muscles and attempting to look intimidating. "If you don't, I think I can knock some sense into him…" He was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt already.

"That's not necessary," Kurt told him, still not meeting either Puck or Finn's eyes. "If either of you go over there you'll just embarrass everyone and get into a fight."

Finn was glaring over Kurt's shoulder, doing his best imitation of someone who was menacing. "They'd deserve it. Every last one of them."

"Calm down," Kurt said, talking to himself as well. "We don't want to be banned from here and be worse off than before, do we?" That seemed to make the two back down a bit. "I'll do it. I need to have a private word with that Anderson."

"You'd better tell him that I don't want to see his ugly mug around the marketplace anymore while we're here," Puck said, not taking his eyes off of the group of men behind Kurt. "And that's an order."

Kurt took in a deep breath. "I'll be sure to pass along the message. But I intend to have a civil conversation." He turned to Finn. "You take Puck to cool off. I need both of you focused and level-headed."

His mind was reeling. Late at night he'd recite what he would say to Blaine the next time he saw him. It always varied one night to the next - sometimes sounding like an elegant speech, other times sounding like a sporadic jumble of emotions. He'd replace words and insert charm and wit. He had it all planned out – from the vocabulary to the pauses of breath for dramatic effect. But now, as the moment was staring him straight in the face, his mind was blank. Everything was gone, replaced by one thing and one thing only: panic.

His throat felt dry, closing up just at the mere thought of turning around. He took one last breath to steady himself. This was it. This was that moment. Ready or not, it was here.

He turned around.

* * *

><p>"We should split up," Blaine said, looking from Jeff to Nick to Wes. "We'll cover more ground that way."<p>

"But is that really _necessary_ - " Wes began irritably.

Nick interrupted them, waving a hand between them. "Guys, I think we have a problem…"

"Not now," Wes said, ignoring him completely. "I'm in the middle of telling Blaine how to improve his business tactic."

"We've been over this a million times," Blaine argued, pushing back the brim of his hat. "I'm in charge, Wes. Not you. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but - "

"_Enthusiasm_," Wes scoffed. He jabbed Jeff in the ribs. "Can you believe him?"

"Actually - " Jeff started.

"_Not now_," Blaine and Wes said in unison.

"Look, I know there's an ongoing power struggle between you two, but I really think you should - "

"Nick, for the last time…"

"No, really," Jeff interrupted. "You should look behind you."

Blaine spun around, not sure what exactly he should be looking for. He scanned over the surrounding booths, looking for anything out of place, but came up with nothing. That was until his eyes landed on a familiar face.

Kurt.

How could he _not_ recognize that face? That face that had been in close proximity to his own. That face he'd memorized with his fingertips – memorized it by the touch, smell, taste. It was the face that popped up in his minds late at night just before he fell asleep. How could he not recognize that face?

He stood perfectly still, eyes locked on Kurt's shining blue irises. He didn't move, didn't smile, didn't engage in any silent signs that it was okay for Kurt to come over. He stayed perfectly still, hoping Kurt would stay away, because he wasn't sure that he could handle a public showdown.

Kurt was beautiful. Of course he was - that was nothing Blaine didn't know. But after going so long without witnessing it, Blaine was taken away by his striking eyes, his perfectly tousled hair, his pale skin, and just his overall aura; seeming to buzz with energy, even when not in motion.

He could feel his eyes assessing Kurt, raking up and down that body. They weren't even speaking yet, but Blaine could feel his body tense up – on high alert. He was already feeling too much, even from so far away. That was part of the reason he'd been busying himself with work and keeping his distance, because the last time they met, he'd maybe felt a little more than he'd bargained for.

Blaine took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was the one in control now. He would have the last word, he would be in charge of giving or taking, and he would be the one to reign dominant. Kurt Hummel didn't have a hold over him whatsoever; he was just a lowly competitor that just so happened to know how to use his mouth. At least that was what Blaine was trying to convince himself of at that particular moment.

"Blaine…" Nick nudged him on his shoulder lightly. "Are you okay?"

Blaine blinked a few times, regaining his focus. "I'm fine," he answered. "Perfectly fine."

"It looked for a minute like those other two were about to start a fight," Jeff mumbled, his eyes following two guys walking away from the scene, leaving Kurt behind. "But not anymore…"

Wes scoffed. "We could've handled them easily. Come on, let's go. This has the potential only to lead into the world's most awkward moment."

"You go ahead," Blaine said without turning to look at his friends. "I have to take care of something."

"I don't think that's a good idea - " Nick began, but was fell silent when Blaine turned to face him.

"I can handle myself," Blaine replied. "I'll meet you by the car."

The others exchanged glances, looking thoroughly unconvinced, but they left anyways, stealing a few glances backwards as they did so.

Blaine took a deep breath and strode forward, concentrating on making his face a mask of complete calm. He wanted to look as if he'd expected this – planned it, even. He would look completely placid, covering up every hint of nervousness that he'd displayed seconds before.

He stopped when he was less than a foot away from Kurt, giving the other boy a small smile. He cleared his throat awkwardly, filling the short silence before speaking.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello," Kurt replied icily, crossing his arms.

Blaine tried to ignore how he could see the outline of the muscles in Kurt's arms more defined by this action. He absentmindedly licked his lips as he pushed back the brim of his hat.

"Didn't expect to see you here." He chuckled, trying to break the tension.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Why wouldn't you? This is where we come to do business."

"Well…" Blaine faltered. "Yeah. I just didn't think about it, I guess, since it usually doesn't happen."

"Right," Kurt replied.

They both fell into a silence that couldn't be filled, not even by Blaine's overconfidence.

Blaine took a step forward and lay a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Look, Kurt - "

"Not here," Kurt hissed. He looked around as if expecting to see someone watching them. "Follow me," he instructed.

Blaine watched as Kurt strode away down a nearby aisle. When he realized Kurt was serious, he hurried after him, not quite sure what to expect. They turned left, then right, then right again, followed by another sharp left until Blaine couldn't keep track of where they came from in the first place.

He followed Kurt for a while, leaving the marketplace behind and disappearing behind a vacant building. Neither of them said a word, and Blaine made sure to keep his distance, looking behind himself every so often to make sure the coast was clear. He was doing just that when he ran into Kurt, who had abruptly halted.

Kurt spun around, his eyes narrowed and his features sharp. He looked as if he were about to say something, but remained silent, just glaring.

"Are you - "

"You owe me an explanation, Blaine," Kurt burst out.

Blaine frowned. "I do?" He was genuinely confused.

"Yes," Kurt said. "Blaine, you completely blew me off…"

"Wait," Blaine said holding out his hand. "You brought me out here so that you could _argue_ with me?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Kurt, I'm not _dating_ you. I don't have to explain anything to you. I was busy - I was going on with my life."

"I wasn't saying - "

"I know _exactly_ what you're saying."

"What am I _supposed_ to think, Blaine..."

"Nothing, because there is nothing going on between us."

"Yeah," Kurt said, letting up a bit, but still looking thoroughly upset.

"Listen, Kurt," Blaine said, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "I don't owe you anything."

"Like hell you don't," Kurt growled, pushing Blaine backwards without warning.

Blaine felt his back slam into the brick wall of the building, but he was too preoccupied with the way Kurt's chest was pressed close to his to argue. His hands flew out reflexively and he heard his own breath hitch momentarily before Kurt lowered his lips to Blaine's.

There was nothing gentle about the way their mouths were meeting. Kurt's lips were moving hungrily, devouring and scraping teeth in his haste. Blaine couldn't catch his breath, but he didn't push Kurt away either. He gave in without a fight, without as much as a grunt of protest, savoring the taste and the feel as if it were the first time.

He wasn't thinking about making logical arguments or reciting what he would say when they broke apart, because deep down he knew that he was hungry for this too. He knew he'd been thinking about it and now that Kurt's mouth was hot and insistent against his, he let it happen. Because that's what he wanted.

He let out a soft moan as he felt Kurt's hands roaming up his sides and grabbing at his clothes, rubbing against his skin and pressing against him. Kurt was pinning him against the wall, hands braced on either side of Blaine with their chests flush against one another and their hips mirroring that proximity.

There was no mistaking that the tables had turned and Kurt was, in fact, the one with the high ground. He pulled back abruptly, leaving Blaine's mouth to trail down across his neck. Blaine's breathing stuttered audibly as Kurt's warm breath skated against his skin briefly before he sank his teeth onto Blaine's throat. He sucked hard, letting his tongue roam freely and making wet, greedy sounds. Blaine arched his head backwards, silently encouraging Kurt as he let his fingers bury themselves in the other boy's hair.

He could practically feel Kurt smirking against his skin as he moved up Blaine's neck, enticing a few groans as he did so, and moved his lips to the skin behind Blaine's ear. He pressed a sloppy kiss there before drawing Blaine's earlobe into his mouth and nibbling on it. Blaine let out a low whimper as Kurt blew cool air onto the damp patches on Blaine's skin that he'd left behind.

"Oh my god, Kurt," Blaine said with difficulty. He was mentally kicking himself for voicing how good it felt.

"I've been thinking about this," Kurt whispered directly into Blaine's ear, causing him to shudder. "I've been thinking about all the things I want to do to you."

He'd slyly moved a hand down to Blaine's crotch, feeling the blatant erection that was surely showing through his jeans. Blaine was too concentrated on the way Kurt's velvet voice was caressing his ear to be ashamed. Kurt paused in his confession to palm Blaine violently through his pants and bite down on his earlobe. Blaine closed his eyes and suppressed a noise.

Kurt gave a low chuckle, not letting up on the pressure, but instead pressing harder, causing Blaine to dig his fingernails into Kurt's arm. The taller boy reached even further, extending his arm and trailing his fingers from between Blaine's leg all the way up the outline of his erection until they reached the top. Blaine's legs flexed from the sensation of movement against the strained material. He was left unsatisfied, teased, because the pressure was only enough to entice, not enough to gratify the unspoken sense of need that seemed to be radiating from Blaine.

Kurt's mouth resumed its work on Blaine's ear, tongue making loud noises against the perimeter of his ear. Blaine didn't even mind, not one bit; his lids closed as Kurt's teeth tugged roughly at his earlobe and his tongue swiped around his inner ear, leaving hot, breathy sounds in its wake. He clutched helplessly at Kurt's back as the other boy continued using his hand to press against Blaine's crotch. He was applying more pressure, almost painfully so, and rutting the palm of his hand against the base of Blaine's erection. Blaine bit down on his lip hard to prevent himself from asking – no, _begging_ – for more.

"What were you saying, Blaine?" Kurt asked, his lips against Blaine's neck. "About not owing me anything?"

Blaine licked his lips, taking note of how uneven Kurt's tone was. "I…" He took a deep breath. "I-I don't owe you an-anything." He swore under his breath, irritated that his voice wasn't cooperating.

"Maybe I owe _you_ something," Kurt said, cocking an eyebrow and giving Blaine a meaningful, lingering stare.

Before Blaine could ask what Kurt owed him, Kurt's lips were back on his mouth, silencing his protest – not that Blaine was in any position to protest in the slightest. His back was pressed against the wall as Kurt launched an attack on his lips. Kurt's left hand was securing Blaine's face, drawing him closer as he snaked his tongue into Blaine's mouth.

With his free hand, Kurt knocked Blaine's hat off onto the floor, where it kicked up a cloud of dust. Blaine didn't mind, as it only meant he was being pressed further against the wall as Kurt tongue did that amazing thing where it traced the roof of his mouth and rubbed against his own. His breathing grew harsh as Kurt's hands moved the snap of his jeans.

"What…" Blaine asked lethargically, as one would when they're coming out of a dream. "_Here?_"

"Shh, no one's around," Kurt assured him.

Blaine couldn't exactly object after that because Kurt's hand was in his pants and that was enough to make his train of thought go to one place. He reached out and brought Kurt's lips to his own again, desperate to keep his mouth busy to keep himself from pleading or whimpering. His lips were shaky as Kurt wrapped his hand around Blaine's cock and gave it a few good squeezes.

He was grabbing Kurt by the suspenders, then by the collar, by the face. He couldn't make up his mind; his hands were roaming and clutching whatever skin or material they could find. Closer, always bringing Kurt closer. He found his own mouth beginning to move urgently against Kurt's of its own accord – he was beginning to stray away from a structured thought process and moving into a mode where there was nothing but feeling.

Kurt's thumb swiped the tip of Blaine's erection, swirling around the slit and feeling the stickiness that was already there and plentiful at that. He grinned against Blaine's lips, apparently pleased with the state he'd managed to draw Blaine into. His teeth sank into Blaine's lower lip as the fist of his hand began to move very slowly up and down Blaine's shaft.

Blaine's breath caught in his throat as the action intensified second by second. Kurt's grip became tighter, bringing him a small amount of relief, as Kurt's mouth had wandered down Blaine's jaw line. He had managed to unbutton a couple of buttons of Blaine's shirt single-handedly and was pushing aside the material to expose his clavicle and conjoining skin near the shoulder. His mouth was working expertly, sucking and licking, until it felt so good that it hurt. But it was a hurt so good that Blaine didn't ask him to stop. In fact, he deliberately shifted to give Kurt more leverage, practically offering the skin up for taking.

Kurt's hand had developed a steady rhythm now, going from tip to base swiftly, sometimes pausing to pay homage to certain parts. Such as the prominent vein protruding on the underside of Blaine's cock or the slit at the top that was becoming more and more slick by the second, spilling so much wetness over the top that the traction was becoming easier.

But Blaine couldn't help it, he was so turned on. He could admit to himself in moments like this, moments of surrender, that he _had_ been thinking about this. His mind had wandered to Kurt in the middle of the night when the aching in his groin was too much for him. He thought of Kurt's hands, his mouth, his tongue - the things they could do, the things they had done, and the wonderful things they could do in the future.

He'd also been thinking that maybe he wasn't good for Kurt. That maybe this thing between them could only end in a fiery blaze. But in moments like this when there bodies were flush against one another leaving no space to breathe and Kurt's mouth was against his skin, his hand was working on his aching cock – where they should be – he couldn't deny that it felt right. It felt good. It felt like a sweet release, like a bundle of tension was being lifted off his shoulders.

As Kurt began to move the circle of his hands faster, Blaine groaned and began thrusting his hips into Kurt's fist. He felt Kurt to begin to lighten up his grip instead. He moved his hips frantically, trying to compensate for the loss, but Kurt's fingers were teasing now. The other boy knew he'd worked Blaine into a frenzy and was now purposefully backing off.

"Kurt, please…" Blaine begged. "_Please_."

Thankfully, that was all it took for Kurt to recapture Blaine's lips and constrict his hand so much that Blaine almost let out a yell. Kurt's hand was warm and welcome against his aching erection, moving faster and faster. Blaine could feel his toes curling with pleasure. He threw his head back against the wall as Kurt picked up the pace, moving with lightning fast precision. Then he drew Blaine's tongue into his mouth suddenly, sucking on it and letting his teeth come into play. That alone was almost enough to put Blaine over the edge, but Kurt was moving his hand with a purpose now and only one purpose: the make Blaine come.

And with two more strokes, he did just that. Blaine let out a slew of choice curse words, but he didn't care because he was coming. He felt it splatter against the bottom of his shirt, he knew he'd left a mess on Kurt's hand, and maybe even some traces on his pants. But he couldn't bring himself to care about his appearance, because _fuck_, it felt so good. His breathing was unstable as he came down from his orgasm high and his fingers were clutching uselessly to Kurt's shoulder, more there for show than for actual support. He slumped against the wall and bowed his head, coming to his senses.

Kurt smirked at the state of Blaine, looking him up and down before moving away.

"Wait, where are you going?" Blaine asked.

Kurt took a few steps back, surveying his handiwork. He knew he would need some relief himself after what he just did to Blaine, but that was nothing an hour in the shower couldn't take care of. He turned around and began to flounce away, a new spring in his step.

"Kurt…" Blaine called out again, still standing with his back to the wall.

"Hmm?" Kurt said, turning around as if he'd forgotten Blaine was even there. "Good luck cleaning up before you have to get back to your boys," he sing-songed.

He looked at Blaine, _really_ looked at him. He saw the white streaks on Blaine's shirt even from the distance away, and he knew that even if Blaine wiped the substance off, it would definitely leave a trace, seeing how much of the shirt was stained. His shirt was also wrinkled from where Kurt had scrunched it up and it was open, revealing Blaine's very marked neck, bruises already blossoming on the skin there. Blaine's face was flushed and his hair was disheveled. There'd be no way that he could pass through the marketplace without any of it being noticed.

Kurt smiled. That had been his plan, after all.

"Kurt…" Blaine said, looking down at himself and seeming to have the same revelation. "God damn it."

"Guess you'd better not stand me up next time," Kurt said breezily, examining his own nail beds.

Blaine laughed and looked heavenwards. "Shit. Is that was this was about?"

"Maybe," Kurt said, turning to leave again. "Oh, and in case you were wondering," he threw over his shoulder. "Friday. At eight."

"What?" Blaine asked with a confused expression.

"Be there. And maybe bring a change of clothes this time," was all Kurt said before walking away and leaving a bewildered Blaine far behind him.

* * *

><p>"Where were you?" Santana asked, arms already crossed, as Kurt sauntered back towards the line of vehicles.<p>

"Taking care of a difficult customer," Kurt answered smoothly, patting down the collar of his shirt. He was sure not a hair was out of place.

No one questioned his answer. They all shrugged and headed to their respective seats. Kurt got behind the wheel of the truck, Finn in the passenger seat.

The ride back to the ranch went without a hitch, no one suspecting Kurt in the slightest. They filed out of the cars and headed straight towards the kitchen, where Carole had prepared yet another bountiful meal for them.

The afternoon passed in merriment. That was, until Burt cleared his throat for the attention of the table. Everyone looked up from their empty plates.

"I have a bit of news," he announced. "This competition between the Anderson Ranch and ourselves - " The whole table grumbled at the mere mention of the name, " – it's really come to the attention of the public.

"So?" Santana asked.

"So _The Blade_ has decided to do a piece on it."

Silverware clanged against plates as it was dropped, chairs were scraped back, protests broke out from person to person.

"A front page piece," Burt clarified, only intensifying the mayhem.

"Wait, is it a slow news day or something?" Kurt asked, not quite believing that one of the biggest newspapers in Ohio wanted to do a spread on rural life. "We're not that interesting."

"That's not the point," Burt replied. "I said yes because it would mean a lot of free publicity."

"Yeah, for the competition too," Finn shouted from across the table.

"I'm only warning you because there are two set-backs." The whole table groaned in unison, but Burt pressed on anyways. "One, they are sending us an ex-gossip columnist. A _well-known_ gossip columnist," he clarified. "This is going to be her first major piece, but I need you all to act normal." He gave the table a once over. "Well better than normal, actually. I need you to be _perfect_. We can't give her _anything_ to go off of or else it could turn from an interest piece into a slander piece like that."

He snapped his fingers for emphasis and everyone sitting around the table was rapt as he continued.

"Secondly, and more importantly…" He hesitated. "She'll be boarding here for about a week."

Everyone sat in silence before breaking out in more yelling. There were about ten different arguments going on, all different from each other, but all with an underlying tone of panic.

"There are a few reasons for that," Burt said, standing up and reclaiming authority. "Now we all know the city is far away from here. _Far_." Everyone had to agree with that. "So to really get a feel for this place and for our lives, she'll be staying here until she feels that she has everything she needs for her piece." He looked pointedly at everyone. "So everyone is on their best behavior until further notice." They all looked down at their plates. "And when she asks you anything – _anything_- you be sure to answer diligently."

They all mumbled their agreement begrudgingly.

"When is this devil coming?" Kurt asked sarcastically.

"Friday," Burt answered. "This Friday."

* * *

><p>The rest of the week passed in a blur of work. Also, in a frenzy of housework. Half of their workday consisted of cleaning up the main house so that not a pillow was out of place. Carole had them dusting and shining mirrors, hiding old clothes and family heirlooms that looked out of place, and bringing out their best china.<p>

Preparations were in full swing.

Burt had been quizzing them on plausible questions. Mostly they made Kurt feel silly: _How do you like your job? What exactly __**is**__ your job? How hard is the work you do? Do you fully believe in the products you sell?_ Nonetheless, he humored his father and replied with rehearsed answers until his dad was satisfied.

Bright and early Friday morning, the doorbell rang, as was expected. Kurt had been assigned to answer the door, and being so, he'd put extra effort in his outfit. Being the first thing the journalist would see, he wanted to make a good impression. He wore his best shirt, a bow tie, slacks, and even a jacket for good measure (even though none of these articles of clothing were work-friendly). He straightened his bow tie and stood up straight as he opened the door, a smile plastered on his face.

Of course, he'd prepared a monologue for this moment to set the tone for the entire visit. He knew exactly what he was going to say, he'd planned on a thorough tour of the house, and putting on the Hummel charm - it was all planned out. But that all flew out the window as he saw who was standing before him.

His heart sank in his chest and he half-considered slamming the door in a perfect stranger's face. But instead he just stood there without speaking, filled with dread.

"Hi," the girl said in a bright tone. _Too bright_, if you asked Kurt.

She was wearing a soft pink, a-line dress with a ribbon tied at the waist. Her smile was so wide that it threatened to crack her face in two if it was any wider. She had a purse on her elbow and white heels – that much Kurt could silently appreciate. She looked too eager for seven in the morning.

"Hello," he replied stiffly.

"I'm Rachel Berry."


	6. The Set Up

"And _this_ is the barn," Kurt gestured to the wide space. Some of the animals were milling about in their stalls, hooves clopping on the wood floor.

"How…rustic!" Rachel said brightly. "I love it."

Kurt forced a tight smile. It'd only been about an hour – he was biding his time for as long as humanly possible – and already he was growing in distaste of the reporter. He was quickly learning that her favorite words to describe the ranch consisted of "rustic", "rural", or "charming." Maybe that was a city girl's point of view, but all Kurt saw when he was on the ranch was home. It wasn't exciting at all, just familiar.

"So this is like…your base," she mused aloud. "Where you all report to at the crack of dawn and long after the sun goes down, gathering your weapons of choice to wield against both your greatest enemy and the hand that feeds – the earth…" She tapped her chin thoughtfully before jotting down a few notes in her small notebook. "That's almost poetic."

He'd noticed that she liked to do that too. She tended to think aloud as if already writing her article, over-elaborating every single detail and warping it with her words until he wasn't entirely sure she'd gotten the point at all. He made a face at her as she wrote down her monologue verbatim, adding a few good money words here and there. When she was satisfied (she filled two whole pages – he had barely said five words!) she began to wander along the stalls.

"We keep everything in here. Most of the animals spend the night in here, especially if the weather's bad. Over in that corner are all of the tools and the machinery. You'll have to be careful around them, they're pretty dangerous," he warned as she reached out towards the blade of a saw. He grabbed her wrist and gave out a forced laugh. "We wouldn't want you to…hurt your writing hand," he lied.

"Quite right," she said, flouncing in the opposite direction. She wiggled her gloved fingers, "These are the money-makers. Well, along with this," she pointed to her head. "Being smart is half of the job. Ideas just come to me, they just flow through me and I have to scramble to harness all of my words, you know?" When Kurt didn't answer, only giving her a skeptical look, she shrugged. "I guess working on a farm your whole life, you wouldn't know anything about that. Don't worry," she told him as she dusted off his shoulder daintily, slowing down her words noticeably, "The world needs rustic folk like you. Not everyone can be clever."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, an onslaught of choice words coming to mind. But before he could even begin to put this girl in her place, she was already walking away, completely unfazed.

"Oooh, cows!" Rachel squealed, rushing over to a nearby stall. "Are you going to teach me how to milk a cow? I feel my inner milk-maid stirring!"

"Maybe later," Kurt said. Personally, he hoped to not have to spend any time with Rachel later if he was lucky. "It's not as fun as people make it out to be. You really have to be in control; you have to know what you're doing."

"In control…" Rachel repeated, tapping the tip of her pen against the notepad. She jotted down something – what, Kurt hadn't the faintest idea – before putting her supplies away in her purse.

"So are you going to put me to work?" she asked eagerly. "Make me work in the fields? Pick livestock? Herd sheep? Wrangle horses?"

"Um…no?" Kurt responded. "I don't think we ever intended on having you work here, I was just giving you the grand tour…"

"Oh, nonsense," she cut him off. "Isn't that how it works? You stay on a Ranch, you help run it. It just seems right."

"I thought you were here to write an article," he retorted.

"I am," she said with a wide grin. "But I feel like I should really get into character with this article. Get my hands dirty." She stared down at her still-gloved hands. "Well…not too dirty."

"Okay, firstly," Kurt held up one finger, "This isn't a 'character'. This is our lives. Secondly," He ticked off another finger, "You're not exactly dressed for work. Thirdly," Yet another finger to count off, "You're our guest. We couldn't ask you to do our work."

"Hmm…" She considered his points. "Maybe you could let me help just a little bit?" she said with a sickeningly sweet voice. "Just take me with you while you do your job so I can get a closer look?" She seemed to sense his hesitation. "It would really help the development of my piece. Maybe I could write a lot of positive things about this place…" She had him there and what's more was she knew it too.

Kurt scowled to himself. He knew she was going into gossip-mode, fishing for something that wasn't there. He'd been hoping to escape her while he worked and unloading her on another employee, but that didn't seem like it would be happening any time soon. He considered it for a moment, finally deciding that maybe the best way to keep an eye on the viper was to keep her close.

"Fine, you can come with me. But you can't interfere with my work."

"Yay!" she clapped her hands rapidly, jumping up and down. "Don't worry, I'll be the best farm girl there ever was." She gave a little squeal. "An actual ranch. I just love it." She spun around in a circle. "It's positively rural!"

* * *

><p>"What do you mean I have to ride a horse?" Rachel asked him, considerably less enthusiastic now. "My <em>own<em> horse? I thought I was riding with you!"

"No," Kurt said. "My horse can only carry the weight of one person. Plus my supplies. Can't you ride a horse?"

"I only ride _sidesaddle_," Rachel said indignantly as if this were obvious. "It's the only way for a lady to ride. But I usually ride with someone else."

"Well, you wanted to be a farm girl. And here, farm girls ride horses. With one leg on each side."

"I can't do it," she pouted. "It's just not ladylike." She blinked up at him innocently, pulling another act. "Can't I just ride on the front of your horse?"

Kurt sighed and tried not to look heavenward. He knew he hadn't exactly hit it off with the reporter and that he was walking a thin line between positive and negative feedback. He guessed that he had to take one for the team.

"I _suppose_," he dragged out the word, "if I load up the second horse with the supplies then you could ride on the front of my horse."

She dropped the act immediately. "Perfect," she said in her normal voice.

* * *

><p>An excruciatingly slow ride later (as it turns out, he couldn't encourage his horse to go as fast as he usually did or else Rachel would scream and insist that she was going to either die or fall off), they were coming upon the designated area of focus for the day. Another day of gathering the crops.<p>

Kurt could see a few other workers nearby, Finn included, and when they saw who he brought with him, they all kept their eyes down and the air which was previously filled with easy chatter grew considerably quieter.

Kurt jumped down to the ground, holding his arms out to Rachel. She grabbed his shoulders as he lifted her down to the ground, placing her gently on the firm dirt. She looked around eagerly, her sparkling eyes flitting from one place to the next. He could see her mentally cataloguing every single miniscule detail, filing it away for reference. He could also see her judging everything and everyone, forming a biased opinion about her surroundings that she could run with.

"So this is where we – And when I say 'we', I mean 'I' – will be working today. It varies from day to day; usually we have at least three or four sites a day to finish. Sometimes we only send one our two people to do the job. But, today, we're just working as a unit to get this huge piece of land in shape," he explained to her, hoping it wasn't falling on deaf ears. "Like I said, it's not as exciting as you'd think. It's a lot of hard work, but we do our best."

"When you say 'do our best', does that imply that you're struggling?" Rachel asked, turning on him. "The fact that you admit that sometimes you only send one or two people to do a job like this means you must be dreadfully understaffed. Is that because you lay off a lot of people or because people just don't want to work for you? And, if that _is_ the case, how do you treat your employees to give yourselves a reputation of that despicable caliber in the first place? Is this business going under? Are you going to fall susceptible to the new ranch in town?"

Kurt held up his hands. "Whoa, I have no idea where you got that from, but I was just telling you how we function. We have plenty of workers – albeit, not as many as the competition – and new ones come in every day. We welcome all to our family – because that's what it is: a family. In fact, my step-mom likes to have everyone stay after their shifts and she cooks huge meals where we all sit down and get to know one another on a personal level." He could see that his lines were somewhat making her take a mental step backwards. "You're more than welcome to lend a hand if you'd like, Rachel," he finished with a sweet smile of his own.

She nodded, satisfied for the moment with his answer. "Alright, Hummel. Show me what I need to do."

* * *

><p>It took a grand total of five minutes for Kurt to figure out that Rachel wasn't going to be of much help. She was already complaining about the dirt on her shoes, her hair was in her eyes, not tied back like the other girls, and she absolutely refused to bend down because she was wearing a dress. What's more was she refused to take off her gloves and she was complaining about the heat on what was a relatively cool day.<p>

She'd found a fence post to perch herself on, swinging her legs back and forth as she fanned herself furiously. Kurt, on the other hand, was doing his best to ignore her. He'd taken off the bow tie and jacket, draping them over the same fence post Rachel was sitting on, and he'd unbuttoned the topmost buttons of his shirt. Rolling up his sleeves neatly, he dove into his work, gathering some equipment and heading over towards his step-brother.

"How's it going with…what's her face?" Finn asked, eyeing said what's-her-face over his shoulder. Unsubtly, at that.

"Do you want the nice answer or the truth?" Kurt responded, giving Finn a pointed look.

"That bad?" Finn asked, grimacing as he did so. "I don't know…I mean, she can't be _all _bad. She's kind of…cute."

Kurt suppressed a snort. "Finn, now is not the time to let your hormones run amok. You need to focus, you need to…" That was when he got an idea.

"I know that face," Finn said, eyes wide. "You're thinking something. And I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"Depends…" Kurt began mischievously. "Finn, I think you should go over there, introduce yourself to Miss Rachel Berry, get to know her a bit, and ask her out for a night on the town."

"T-tonight?" Finn stammered. "I don't think I can do that. I mean, I'm not very good with girls and she's really pretty, which is making me nervous and she'll probably just say no…" he rambled.

"How will you ever know if you don't ask? Don't you like her?" Kurt goaded.

"I like the_ idea_ of her," Finn said. "For all I know she could be a recovering sociopath."

Kurt clapped his step-brother on the shoulder. "Finn, I'm going to be honest with you. First off, I don't think you know what that means. Secondly, all you have to do is walk over there, be confident, throw a compliment her way and be your awkward self."

"I don't know…" Finn said, still hesitating. "I don't usually ask girls out…"

"Look, I'll be your wingman," Kurt offered. "I'll go over there and give you an in. I'll send her to you. Just don't screw it up."

"Wait," Finn said before Kurt could walk away. "Why do you need me to ask her out so badly?"

"I just…need you to get her out of my hair for a few hours, please," Kurt lied. Well, it was a partial-lie, anyways. "Just for tonight and then I'll take her all of tomorrow if it doesn't go well." He could tell Finn was thinking it over. "I'll do your house chores a week," he proposed. "Please, Finn."

"Oh, alright," he gave in. "Just don't make me sound like an idiot."

"Don't _act_ like one and we won't have a problem," Kurt shot back. "Oh, and if she asks you any questions about work, just say what my Dad told you to. She likes to dig for a story, so watch what you say."

"I'm not dumb," Finn mumbled as he went back to his work.

Kurt marched straight up to Rachel, his hands behind his back and a smile plastered on his face.

"Hi, Rachel," he said in chipper voice. "How are you liking it so far? Is it everything you've imagined it'd be?"

"This is fantastic, Kurt," she gushed. "I only wish I could do more…"

"No, no don't worry. You're our guest. Look, the reason why I came over here is…Well, you see that guy over there?" He pointed to Finn who was failing miserably at not looking over to Rachel.

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "He's cute. Is he single? You should introduce me."

"Ah, Miss Berry, you are reading my mind. I came over here to tell you that he might just be interested in asking you out on a date."

"A date?" she asked, a surprised look on her face. "Well I don't know…"

"Come on," Kurt said, putting his persuasive powers to good use. "Weren't you just asking for an introduction?" He saw her smile to herself. "Live a little. I can personally vouch for him; he's my step-brother. He's just really shy." Her smile widened. "And sensitive," he added for good measure.

"Aw," Rachel sighed. "Okay, I'll just go up and ask him a few questions and then maybe we'll get to talking…"

"Just call me your match-maker," Kurt said as she hopped off the fence and started towards Finn.

Kurt stifled a laugh as he saw Finn tense up even from afar. He'd been watching the interaction from afar all the while and Kurt could see he was having a silent panic-attack. Finn glanced over at Kurt, a distinctly frightened look in his eyes. Kurt gave him an over exaggerated thumbs-up and mouthed at him to look at Rachel. Finn seemed to get the message and ripped his eyes away from his step-brother to look at the approaching reporter, giving her his signature half-smile.

Kurt leaned against the fence post and watched as the two began to talk. He could tell Rachel was being overly-flirty; laughing a little too hard, touching Finn's chest as if to say '_My, you're so funny_', and grabbing his arm. He didn't know whether to be amused of horrified as Rachel trapped Finn's arm in what looked to be a pretty decent death grip and sidled up to him, rubbing her chest against his forearm. He was _definitely_ amused as he saw Finn slowly turning red.

As much as he wanted to see what else would unfold, Kurt walked to the opposite side of the field – as far away as he could possibly get. He'd leave the rest to Finn.

All he knew was that he owed his step-brother more than a week's worth of chores for skiving Rachel off and keeping her away for the evening. _Way_ more than that. He only hoped that it would be worth it.

* * *

><p>"I said to <em>placate<em> her," Burt hissed, struggling with keeping his voice low. "Not to _date_ her."

"Well, she asked _me_ out," Finn explained. "I couldn't say no. That's rude. Plus…I _want_ to go." Burt looked as if he were going to have another heart attack right then and there. "Look, if you don't want to think about it as a date, just think of it as me entertaining her for the evening."

Burt growled, clearly not pleased with that image either. "You're a grown man, Finn. You can make your own decisions. But trust me when I say this: if you mess this up for all of us in any way, shape, or form, I will…I-I'll..." He shook his head, struggling for words.

"Deep breaths, Dad," Kurt reminded from the corner. "Think calm thoughts."

"Just…" Burt exhaled loudly. "Just treat her right, Finn. And be a gentleman."

"As if I had plans to do anything else," Finn retorted under his breath. Louder, he said, "It'll be fine, trust me." He shot Kurt a look before exiting the room.

"It was my idea, Dad," Kurt admitted, stepping closer to his father. "I just thought it'd be a good idea for Rachel to see the sights – not that there's much to see," he added for his own benefit. "If anything goes wrong, just blame me."

"I don't want to think about it," Burt said abruptly. "I can't believe it's only the first day and both of you are already setting us up for trouble."

"Sorry. I was just…trying to help Finn out, I guess." He rubbed his Dad's back gingerly. "It'll be okay," he said.

"For both your sakes, it'd better be," Burt warned.

* * *

><p>At eight o' clock sharp, Kurt heard a rapping on his window, like a small pebble hitting the pane; barely noticeable if he hadn't been listening for it. He scrambled out of bed and pushed aside the curtains, flinging the window outwards. He ducked just in time to avoid another pebble to the face.<p>

"I already opened the window," he hissed, grabbing the small rock off of his bedroom floor and hurdling it back out of the window. He heard a muted 'ow!'

"You didn't have to do that," Blaine told him.

"You didn't have to throw it into my bedroom either," Kurt retorted.

"Keep your voice down," Blaine warned him, "Your parents are sitting on the back porch. I almost had a run in with them."

Kurt stuck his head out of the window, judging the distance between his window and the ground. There was a slant of roof right below his window sill. He bent down and grabbed his duffel bag that he already had prepared and, without bothering to warn Blaine, he chucked it out the window.

He heard Blaine catch it with an '_oof_', thankful that at least he had quick reflexes.

"What's this for?" Blaine asked, weighing the bag in his hands. "What's in here?"

"Just shut up," Kurt ordered before clambering out of his window.

He dropped lithely on the rooftop, closing his windows behind him after the fact, leaving them open just a crack - just enough to reopen again. Then, he slid down until he reached the end of the space. He bent down, got a grip on the roof, and swung his legs over the edge.

"Are you sure you can make that?" Blaine asked skeptically.

"Just stand back," Kurt warned. His arms were holding his weight easily, but he didn't want to be hanging from the roof for long.

He took a deep breath and let go, bending his legs for impact. He landed on the grass gracefully with a light thud, rotating forward on the balls of his feet to keep his balance. His knees ached a bit, but other than that, he was none worse for wear.

"Have you done that before?" Blaine asked, admiration clear in his voice. Kurt wasn't even _looking_ at him, and he could tell Blaine was checking him out.

"Nope, but there's a first time for everything," he replied coolly, dusting himself off. "Let's go," he said.

"Where are we going?"

"As far away from here as we can manage." He straightened the collar of Blaine's shirt while taking a step closer. "Don't worry, Anderson. You'll be back on your Ranch before dawn tomorrow."

Blaine bit his lips, his gaze flickering between Kurt's eyes and his mouth.

"Okay," he said.

"Do you hear voices?" Kurt heard Carole say from around the side of the house.

"You know what, I think I do," Burt said. He heard the creak of a chair as his dad stood up. "Who's there?" His voice was closer.

Kurt turned back to Blaine, his eyes wide with panic. "Just so you know, my Dad keeps a shotgun handy."

"That's nice to know," Blaine shot back.

"Follow my lead," Kurt whispered urgently, shouldering his bag. "_Run_."

So they did.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I started this chapter in school last week and never got the chance to finish. I just wanted to give you that short bit of the story before tonight when we all implode from goodness. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it! Either way, I'll talk to you all again post-coitus. Ahh!_

_I promise the next chapter will be much, much hotter (;_

_**Review** and let me know what you think :D_


	7. Just You, Me, and the Stars

"Rachel _Berry_?" Blaine repeated incredulously. He shook his head. "You can't be serious."

"You've heard of her?" Kurt asked.

Blaine rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking nervous. "I _might_ know her," he admitted.

"Did she interview you in the past or something?" Kurt wondered.

Blaine laughed. "Uh, no. That wouldn't even begin to cover it."

"Come on, tell me," Kurt said, elbowing Blaine in the ribs. "It can't be _that_ bad."

"I slept with her," Blaine blurted out.

"You…" Kurt couldn't help but break out into laughter. "No, you didn't," he said resolutely. "You can't have. You're…_not into women_," he said in a lower voice, fighting to stifle his laughter.

"I was drunk," Blaine told him. "I mean, I was _drunk_."

"Oh, God," Kurt said in horror. "You've been _that _drunk before?"

Blaine grinned at the memory. "It was a bad day – a _really_ bad day. I'd had it out with my father over…some things." He was holding back, but Kurt didn't have time to press about it because he was continuing. "So I headed over to the local bar and got completely wasted with a few friends," he admitted with a shrug. "They left me alone and I was just so…out of it. And she was there. Sure, she wasn't as drunk as I was – she'd only had one martini."

"And you fell in love with her? You courted her with drunken sonnets?" Kurt supplied. "Or what?"

Blaine laughed. "No, _no_. Not even close. I didn't even remember her name until you just mentioned it. I didn't like her. I didn't even feel anything with her."

"Maybe because you were so trashed," Kurt scoffed.

"I guess I was just thinking that being with a woman would fix all my problems," Blaine confessed. "She wasn't the first woman I'd tried my hand at, and she wasn't my last," he said with a smug expression.

"Geez, Blaine," Kurt teased. "Is there anyone in this town you haven't done?"

"I'm looking at him," Blaine replied, a glint in his eyes. His expression softened somewhat as he gave Kurt a small smile.

"I just can't believe you had sex with Rachel Berry," Kurt shook his head, sounding amused. "I mean, what was it like?" He smirked to himself. "I bet she was as demanding in bed as she is in real life."

"Do you _really_ want to go there?" Blaine asked.

"Maybe not," Kurt relented. He readjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder awkwardly.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" Blaine asked. "I'm getting kind of anxious." His voice was dripping with suggestion hanging off the last word.

"This place my Dad used to take me," Kurt answered. "It's a good ways away from the house. Nice and quiet."

"_Deserted_, you mean," Blaine quipped, looking sidelong at Kurt.

"Yeah, don't flatter yourself," Kurt sniffed. "I just couldn't very well have you hanging around when Finn gets back from his date."

"His date?" Blaine echoed. "What date?"

"A stroke of genius," Kurt bragged. "I set him and Rachel up and they're going out on a date. It was enough to get them out of my hair long enough to sneak out." He held his head a little higher. "They won't even know I'm gone."

"Ah, but that's just your cover."

Kurt snorted. "I don't have any need for a cover, so no."

"You do. You just didn't want me in your bedroom again while your family was home because you won't be able to keep the noise down."

Kurt felt himself blushing. "I don't make any noises – you do."

"You don't make any noises _yet_," Blaine corrected confidently. "By the end of the night I'll have you…" He stopped himself from completing his sentence. "Well, you'll find out soon enough. I don't want to spoil all the fun."

"Yeah, we'll see who's the one making noises," Kurt retorted. "You just think you're _so_ sexy, don't you Blaine? Just because you've fucked so many people and had so many partners." He whipped around and put a hand to Blaine's chest, halting him. He whispered directly in Blaine's ear, "Well I might not have had as many, but I know a thing or two. And _you're_ going to be the one begging for more, not me."

He turned around and kept walking, a wicked smile on his face, hoping that Blaine wouldn't notice the slight tremors in his hands. Blaine was still standing in the exact spot Kurt had left him in, watching him walk away with lust-filled eyes.

* * *

><p>"This is it," Kurt said as they emerged from the fields. "This is where I come to…think," he said, echoing Blaine's speech from the first night they spent together.<p>

Blaine grinned at him, recognizing the words. "I didn't know there was a pond nearby," he said in amazement. He went to the waterside and knelt down to run his hands through the crystal clear water.

"My Dad used to take me here a lot when I was young. After my mom died, we didn't make the trip as often. He eventually forgot about it, but I never did."

"One mystery solved, one to go," Blaine said playfully. He stood up and tugged the duffle from Kurt's arm. "What's in the bag? Is this going to be an all-nighter?" He quirked his eyebrows at Kurt.

"It's going to last as long as I want it to," Kurt answered vaguely, swiping the bag from Blaine's grip.

"Is it a tent?" Blaine asked. "It's a tent, isn't it?"

"No and no," Kurt answered. "It's a few sleeping bags, some bug spray, and a lantern. Oh, and wood for a fire. Along with a few other must-haves."

"You are nothing if not prepared," Blaine commented. He pulled out one of the huge sleeping bags, rolling it out on the ground. "I assume you don't think we're actually going to be getting any sleep, right?"

"Not a wink," Kurt replied, wetting his lips at the thought.

Blaine looked into the bottom of the bag. "Oh," he said, observing the leftover contents. "_Oh_."

Kurt chuckled to himself. It was going to be a good night.

* * *

><p>It was a cool evening, not that either Kurt or Blaine could tell.<p>

They were overheated, skin slick with sweat, the colors of flames dancing across their arms, their chests, their backs. Blaine's skin smelt of burning wood, capturing the scent of the nearby fire, embers burning low. Kurt was paying homage to the spot just between the other man's chest and his throat. He let his lips latch onto Blaine's shoulder as his hands ran across Blaine's stomach and his back, clutching him closer.

Blaine was steadying his arms on either side of Kurt's head, bending low as Kurt sucked and bit, kissed and nipped. His hips bucked against Kurt's and he let out a loud gasp as Kurt switched sides. Kurt brought both of his hands to rest on either side of Blaine's bare waist and forced him closer. He crashed their lower halves together, rocking upwards. His lips slipped only once as he groaned from the small fraction of relief the contact was bringing him.

Blaine let out a low whimper as he continued rotating his hips, pressing harder against Kurt's hardness that his jeans were doing absolutely _nothing_ to hide. Kurt ran his fingers along Blaine's naked torso. When they'd first lain down on the thick sleeping bags, Blaine's shirt was the first thing to go; Kurt had made sure of that. He smirked to himself, loving the power just his mere touch had over Blaine - sending shivers through his body.

Kurt hadn't realized that he'd pulled back and was resting his head against the ground. He was staring at Blaine's body, just _looking_ at it, running his fingers across his chest, his shoulders, his arms. He felt Blaine watching him, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. He just wanted to touch each piece, kiss each spot, and just remember how Blaine looked at this moment.

Without warning, Kurt had Blaine pinned to the floor, his knees on either side of Blaine's legs. He settled back until he was sitting comfortably on Blaine's crotch, shifting from side to side occasionally just to hear Blaine suck in a sharp breath.

"Blaine, if you don't touch me, I'll…"

But he never got to say just what he would do because Blaine had pulled him down and was kissing him earnestly. Kurt sighed and tilted his head slightly as their kisses turned longer, deeper, messier. Blaine's fingers were on the buttons of Kurt's shirt, undoing them swiftly before sweeping the material off his shoulders all together. Kurt laughed through the kiss as his arms got caught behind him, stuck in the sleeves.

Blaine didn't notice, still tugging on Kurt's shirt as he let his tongue slip into Kurt's mouth. The latter moaned, his heart racing. He had to admit to himself that he didn't actually mind having his arms trapped behind him. His senses were heightened, Blaine's fingers roaming across his stomach, dipping under his waistband, teasing. He could feel his skin growing flush, the heat returning. He eventually shucked off his shirt and threw it aside, moving his hands quickly to hold Blaine's waist.

He moved his hips just an inch backwards, careful to press as hard as he possibly could downwards, dragging along the forefront of Blaine's pants. The man beneath him hummed against his lips in approval, thrusting upwards. The friction between their groins, suppressed by two layers of clothing, was almost too much to bear.

Blaine pushed Kurt forward so that he had to brace his hands further along Blaine's torso instead of on his hips. Blaine bent upwards beneath Kurt, licking his throat slowly; pausing to suck on the spots he knew would drive the man on top of him crazy. Kurt had no choice but to look straight ahead, panting as Blaine's mouth continued its trek southwards.

Kurt's rigid-straight arms began to tremble as Blaine started kissing his bare chest, using his teeth to his unfair advantage. Kurt bucked down sharply against Blaine when the other man reached one of his nipples, drawing it into his mouth and sucking it in. His tongue was working wonders, honestly _wonders_, as his other hand reached up to tweak the opposite one. Kurt was seeing red; he was so full of lust. He couldn't move his hands to clutch Blaine's head to his chest or else he'd fall, so instead he ground against Blaine's crotch almost violently; back and forth, back and forth as Blaine switched sides, his mouth and hand changing accordingly.

Then Kurt moved back, resting all the way on his haunches before moving upwards again, making sure to drag his restrained erection along the complete length of Blaine's. He moved until he was well above the waistband of Blaine's jeans before returning using the same path, moving slower but applying more pressure. He could feel Blaine's breathing speed up, hot spurts of air hitting Kurt's chest as the other man returned the pressure with needy fervor.

God, Kurt could just bring himself to finish like this: pressing his hips down against the front of Blaine's jeans and rocking against him. He unintentionally picked up his pace, just at the thought, gasping when Blaine's hands found his backside. Kurt's breathing was stuttering quite noticeably, bordering on a frantic whimper if he hadn't bit his lip.

Their lips met in a shaky kiss, joining and parting slowly at first, then faster as Kurt dug his knees into the ground. He couldn't resist the pressure Blaine was applying to the backs of his thighs as he ground down even harder, enticing a groan from Blaine's mouth to his. Oh, but he was so close – so _fucking_ close - and it'd just be so easy to make a mess in his pants. Maybe he could wait for Blaine to finish so that he could get that millisecond of satisfaction - of knowing _he_ was the one to make him come undone without laying a hand on him at all – before going over the edge himself. It'd be _so_ worth it to feel Blaine writhing beneath him just seconds before he himself finished.

But, _damn_, then he was thinking about it and moving his hips even faster. A droplet of sweat rolled down from his hairline down the side of his forehead, he was putting so much exertion into it. His hips were moving of their own accord, he couldn't have stopped if he wanted to – and he's considered it; considered pulling back, unzipping his jeans, finishing himself off right in front of Blaine and laughing because the latter would still be painfully hard in his pants. Kurt had entertained the thought of coming all over Blaine, wondering if just the sight of it would put his competitor over the edge. It very well could, but he wasn't in the mood for experimenting just yet.

"_Fuck_," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips.

Kurt mumbled an incoherent jumble of syllables before biting down of Blaine's lip. Hard. Hard enough to leave a scar. Blaine didn't seem to mind. He just groaned and allowed Kurt to replace his teeth with his tongue, slowly coaxing the area he might've just punctured out of pure lust.

Everything was so hot, it was hard to concentrate. Kurt's jeans felt confiding, he could feel Blaine's sweaty hands against his jeans, just generating more heat as they molded to his ass or massaged his thighs. If he looked down the bridge of his nose, Kurt could see Blaine's chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and could only assume his own was in the same condition. But he honestly didn't give a fuck because it felt so _damn_ good to be riding Blaine's crotch.

He broke the contact of their lower halves just for a second; just to pull back before colliding them even harder than before. The absence of their contact was shocking. Blaine was gasping, digging his fingers into Kurt's waist, sending him silent pleas to please, just _please_ press his crotch against Blaine's again. Kurt let out a guttural whine before hunching his back and bringing his lower half back down with somewhat of a desperate fury.

It wasn't just his hips moving now, he was moving his entire body. He was rocking back so far that his backside was hitting his heels and coming up so far that it was hard to maintain a kiss, but they did it anyways; lips sliding against one another, sometimes brushing against jaws or foreheads. But their mouths never left skin, they never stopped. They sucked and nipped, licked and latched onto skin frantically. Kurt wasn't even concerned with how they might look at that moment, because he was so consumed with how it felt. If feeling this good meant looking like shit and kissing Blaine as if he'd never been kissed before in his life and now he needed his lips to live, then so fucking be it.

The friction in the front his jeans was _insane_, there was just no other way to describe it. If he was home alone he would've finished three times over by now, there was_that_ much going on down there. And if Blaine kept sucking on his jaw like that as he kept rocking down on his peaked pants then he would come right there and then. A loud, breathy whimper left his mouth before he could think about it. It was purely instinctual. Instinctual…Yeah, that's what Kurt had to tell to himself as he ground down on Blaine faster and faster until his breathing was so harsh he was sure they could hear it all the way back at his house. Of course, Blaine's breathing was just as ragged as he grasped Kurt's bare back, clutching him close, head thrown back against the ground and his eyes shut tight.

One more movement: that was all it would take. Just _one more_. Kurt threw back his head as Blaine arched upwards to meet the push of his hips, his teeth still latched onto Kurt's earlobe. But Kurt didn't care because he was coming in his jeans harder than he had in a long time; since the last time he was with Blaine in fact. He could feel the hot stickiness in his underwear, the force of it all even leaving some stray streaks on his lower abdomen, just above the waistband of his underwear. He gritted his teeth as his hips stuttered against Blaine's and his chest heaved. It should've hurt, but it didn't; Kurt was so resistant to pain at this point. He slowed down his motions, moving back and forth along Blaine's still-prominent bulge until he was completely done; until it actually _was_ painful for him to keep going.

Blaine whined, blinding grasping at Kurt's hips, trying to bring him back so that he could finish, but Kurt's arms were already going limp from where they were supporting him and he was kneeling back.

"_Kurt_," Blaine hissed as the other man collapsed next to him, face down.

"Finish yourself off," Kurt said into the sleeping bag, a smirk apparent in his voice. He dragged himself on his elbows until his face was even with Blaine's before turning slightly to face him. "I'd love to watch," he purred.

Blaine gave him a sexy grin, poking his tongue out to wet his lips, his skin flushed. He actually considered what Kurt was asking, Kurt could tell. Blaine's hands were resting on his lower stomach, teasing with the waistline of his boxers peeking just over his jeans. He leaned in and kissed Kurt.

Kurt parted his lips, hooking an arm around Blaine's neck to pull him closer because he was just delicious. Blaine's tongue ran across the bottom of Kurt's lip as he applied slightly more pressure. Kurt's toes touched Blaine's covered shins as he leaned in even more. Their mouths made delectably soft, wet noises against one another as their tongues met in a heated dance.

He was so wrapped up in the kiss that he gasped against Blaine's mouth as the other man's heated fingers made their way down his naked torso and dipped into the waistband of his underwear, ignoring his jeans completely. He squirmed as Blaine's fingers ran against his now-soft cock, swiping against the tip and gathering some of the stickiness on his fingertips.

Kurt watched beneath heavy lids as Blaine pushed back just enough to let him watch while he brought his fingers up to his mouth. Kurt's teeth were working on his own lip, biting down hard, as Blaine's tongue ran across the fingertips of his right hand, taking in the taste of Kurt. His jaw actually dropped as Blaine's mouth encircled his fingers, pumping them in and out of his mouth and miming a completely _different_ part of anatomy. Blaine's eyes were closed as if he were savoring the taste; as if he just couldn't get _enough_.

Kurt drew in an uneven breath, feeling the stirring of his own cock in his pants. It was too soon, it hurt so badly. But just _watching_ Blaine do that to his own hand…It was so good – _too_ good. He got the feeling he was in for a show.

Blaine reached down and unzipped his pants, shifting his hips to push them down just far enough, taking his boxers with them in one motion. Kurt's eyebrows went way up as he looked down between them to Blaine's erection, just admiring the view. He couldn't help but lick his lips hungrily just at the sight. If he wasn't so drained of energy, he'd get on his knees within seconds. But something kept him lying still, eyes flickering between Blaine and his lower half. His breathing was picking up again as he watched Blaine's fingers trail downwards to grip himself.

He leaned over, just for a moment. "Are you going to pretend it's me?" Kurt whispered directly into Blaine's ear.

Blaine groaned. "I might," he answered gruffly, a joker through and through. Another moan bubbled out of his throat before he inhaled sharply.

Kurt returned his attention to Blaine's cock. He watched as Blaine's hand began pumping it with a sure grip, completely uninhibited. Kurt smirked, thinking how far gone Blaine must be if he didn't even mind being watched like this.

Blaine's hand was moving quickly and he was thrusting his hips upwards to meet his tight fist. There was sweat beading on his upper lip and sticky traces along the tip of his cock, already showing signs of the exertion. Kurt propped himself up on his elbow and looked downwards, completely unashamed of his leering.

God, he could just imagine Blaine doing this all the time: in his bedroom late at night – Kurt knew _he_ did – or in his shower, maybe even in that hayloft where they'd first spent the night together. Now there was an image for Kurt's overactive imagination: Blaine splayed out, stark naked on a stack of hay, not a soul in sight, curse words streaming freely from his lips as he came – white sticky streaks mixing in with strands of hay. A shudder passed through Kurt as he envisioned it.

Of course, the imagination was nothing compared to what he was actually lucky enough to be watching. Blaine was arching his back and pumping his hand faster than before. He was moaning when Kurt thought he heard his name.

"_Kurt_," Blaine moaned more clearly. His hips came off the ground to match one particularly powerful flex of his wrist.

Kurt placed a hand strategically on Blaine's warm thigh, rubbing circles in the heated skin there. Blaine groaned at the contact while Kurt moved his hand higher and higher, acting as if he was about to take the reigns. He wasn't, of course, because this was too good to miss. But Blaine didn't know that.

Kurt could only imagine how it felt, having someone else touch you as you jerked off. He'd often thought about it, wondering if it would bring relief or just make the tension worse. It seemed to be affecting Blaine in a good way though – that is if you could call starting and letting loose a few deliciously dirty swear words from Kurt's touch "good". (Hint: Kurt could.)

His hand was dangerously close to Blaine's erection now, his fingertips brushing the dark curls at the base. He knew it had to be driving Blaine crazy, because if it were him, _fuck_, he'd be going mad. He watched Blaine squirm beneath his fingers. He knew he had to be close now. If his breathing was indication, it'd be any moment now – just seconds.

Sure enough, with one final groan, Blaine came across his hand, spattering his fist, his stomach, and Kurt's hand with his substance. It streaked out in spurts, brief pauses as it coated any and all nearby skin. Kurt's mouth was open as he watched Blaine twitch as he continued stroking his cock before finally giving up and lying still on the sleeping bag; the only evidence of his exertion being his tell-tale breathing and the mess he'd made on himself.

He might have been done, but Kurt was just getting started again. He was painfully hard within the confines of his jeans once more and watching Blaine bring himself to orgasm had been oh so good to stomach. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth and licked it clean, watching Blaine with amusement as he did so. Blaine whined softly as Kurt sucked his own hand clean, exaggerating the slurping noises and even humming in pleasure at the taste.

Blaine let out a low growl before rolling over until he was straddling Kurt. He grabbed Kurt's hand away from his mouth and trapped the other one too. He pressed them against the ground over Kurt's head, pinning him to the sleeping bag. He attacked Kurt's mouth with his own, letting his tongue slide in and out, both of their tastes intermingling together in a salty, delicious cascade of motion.

Kurt sighed as he let Blaine scour his mouth with his tongue, not fighting the grip Blaine had on his wrists. He lifted his head to get better leverage, not quite hating how Blaine was restraining him from getting much closer. He had to admit he liked not being in charge of the kiss for once. It was…_sexy_.

He smirked just before breaking Blaine's grasp with ease. He scooted lower and lower, kissing Blaine's neck, then his chest, down his stomach all the way to that part of his anatomy Kurt was most taken with at the moment. He nuzzled Blaine's softening cock with his nose, enticing a shudder from the man above him. He ran his tongue along it experimentally, knowing it'd probably cause Blaine some mild pain. Blaine hissed as Kurt's tongue dragged from the base slowly up to the tip.

"Kurt, don't," Blaine mumbled. But his lower half was telling a different story.

He considered Blaine's flushed cock in front of his face for a moment before licking his lips. Without any warning he took Blaine into his mouth – fully into his mouth, as far as it would go – and began sucking lightly. Blaine cried out, yelping in both surprise and pain. Kurt continued using his tongue to trace the underside as he came up for air.

Blaine knelt back on his legs and pushed Kurt away by the shoulders.

"Not yet," he panted. "Give me a minute at least."

"I need more," Kurt growled. He hadn't come here to do a repeat, but to do something else entirely.

Blaine ignored him and rolled off of him, collapsing on his back.

"You get two minutes," Kurt said, his eyes shining in anticipate. "And that's all."

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later and the two were still both laying on their backs, joined at the hand.<p>

Kurt was allowing himself to look at the stars – really look at them. When he'd first laid down, the sky looked dark, as if swallowing every spot of light whole. He was sure that there wasn't a star in sight. It was one of those nights when everything was pitch black, save the flickering flames of the fire nearby that illuminated their surrounding area.

But now that he'd gotten used to the view and was _really_ looking, he could see that the sky was dotted with thousands of stars. They shone down on him, completely filling his vision, and now every which way he looked, he could see more and more of them. It was one of the only things he loved about living in the countryside. The sky was untouched by pollution; sharp and clear. He felt like the universe was mapped out in front of him, unmarred by waste bred of human hands. The last places untouched – right in front of his eyes.

He was brought back by Blaine's voice.

"My parents never accepted me," he told Kurt, laughing humorlessly to himself. "My first crush was in the first grade," he recalled. "It was a guy named Tommy Reynolds. On Valentine's Day he slipped me a red card asking me to be his and I knew I was a goner."

"I'm sure that went over well," Kurt commented.

Blaine nodded, not averting his eyes from the sky. "Like the naïve child I was, I told my mom. She was always asking about my day, so that day when she asked I just…"

"Told her," Kurt finished for him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Things were never quite the same after that. Even though I was only six, I found myself having to fight for my Dad's attention or my Mom's approval. I had to work extra hard and get perfect grades to get them to acknowledge me at the end of the school year. I never told them about my crushes anymore."

"And Tommy?" Kurt joked lightly. "Do I have some competition?"

Blaine chuckled softly. "Tommy moved away when we started the second grade. Somehow our highly besotted love didn't last the move. I was moving on to _Riley_ the day after Tommy moved."

"Ah," Kurt said. "Well at least your parents knew at a young age. They knew what to expect."

"Hardly," Blaine told him. "I think they were expecting me to switch to girls when my hormones kicked in. We never talked about it, but I know they were thinking it. I think when I was in high school, they expected me to bring home a girlfriend. When I never did, there was some…tension."

He was editing, but Kurt allowed him to. There were some things that didn't need to be said.

Kurt nodded. "I can imagine."

Blaine stayed silent for a moment before turning his attention to Kurt. "What about you? Did your parents always know?"

"Uh," Kurt faltered. "Yeah, they, uh, always knew. Never gave me any trouble," he lied.

Of course, he hadn't told anybody. He knew there'd be a high level of shame and discouragement involved, just like in Blaine's story. It wasn't the safest to go boasting about one's sexuality in this day and age. It just wasn't done. He could only imagine the looks of horror on the faces of the people he knew. Not his family, per say, but just the average Joe at the market place or long-time customers. It would hurt business, that was for sure. So even if anyone suspected, Kurt made sure never to say it out loud. Speaking about it would solidify it and make it real. At least while it was in his mind, it was safe.

"That's why I came out here, you know," Blaine said, interrupting Kurt's thought process. "My Dad told me to go out and make something of myself. He was so pissed at me because he'd asked me if I had a potential fiancé to present to him. I didn't, of course. Not only were my _preferences_ not up to his standards, but long-term relationships…" He shook his head. "They were never my thing."

"So you had to do something to impress him," Kurt guessed.

"I had to," Blaine confirmed. "There was this fund set aside for me to begin my own business – in my father's name, of course, but still my own business. It hasn't been easy, but I kind of have a knack for it."

"No, you don't," Kurt teased. But Blaine didn't laugh at his little joke. He remained solemn.

"This is my last chance, Kurt," he said. "If I fail…If this business fails…" He paused to rifle a hand through his curly hair. "There's no going back. My Dad told me if I fuck this up to not even bother coming home. I'd be as good as dead to him for ruining his good name – among other things." More editing. "So this is it. This is my last chance to impress him."

"Hey, it'll be fine," Kurt reassured him. "Just try not to let us catch your tail or else you're as good as gone," he joked.

"Believe me, I'm trying," Blaine replied with a smile.

"You're supposed to impress _me_ tonight," Kurt said in a low voice, regaining his one-track minded momentum. "And I'd be impressed if your mouth did something else besides talk."

Blaine leaned over and gave Kurt a long, slow, drawn-out kiss, cupping his face and pressing close.

"Do you do this with all the boys?" Blaine teased. "Drive them crazy then trick them out into the middle of a deserted field in the dead of night?"

"Mmmm," Kurt murmured, hooking a leg around Blaine's waist. "Only the ones I really, _really_ can't stand." He pulled Blaine in for another kiss. "As in ones I completely and utterly _loathe_."

Blaine laughed. "Then does that mean I have to work really hard to impress you?"

"Not if you have a natural talent for it," Kurt countered.

"Well I could try my hand at a few coveted tricks."

"Or _I_ could," Kurt said with a quirk of his eyebrows. "Now, where were we before you got all _soft_ on me."

Blaine suppressed a grin. "Something to do with your mouth?" he asked, playing dumb.

"Oh yes, I remember now," Kurt smirked.

* * *

><p>"<em>Yes<em>," Blaine panted. "Yes, right there…"

His fingers tangled in Kurt's hair, pulling slightly. Seeing as how Kurt wasn't objecting to the light tugging, Blaine felt dignified in continuing it. For one particularly knee-weakening suck, he gripped Kurt's hair tighter, rewarded as a moan escaped Kurt's mouth. Of course, that meant double the pleasure for himself as the quick vibrations surged through his erection which was conveniently placed between Kurt's lips.

God, he was going to come in Kurt's mouth without time to warn him if this kept on going. He couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing because, hello, he was in Kurt's _mouth_ – and that was enough to derail his train of thought.

Then just as suddenly as they were there, Kurt's lips were gone. Blaine's eyes had been shut tight, so he took a few seconds to blink in the moonlight.

"Kurt," he groaned. "Where'd you g - "

He stopped talking because Kurt's tongue was somewhere it'd hadn't been a second ago. It was trailing down his ass, aided by his hands that were spreading Blaine wide. Blaine bucked as Kurt's tongue met the skin just surrounding his entrance. The second Kurt's tongue began tracing the rim of his entrance, Blaine hissed.

"Mmmmm," Kurt said from down below, chuckling to himself.

He swiped his tongue around the edges, making it nice and wet. Blaine was so built up that he half-considered shoving Kurt's mouth away and using his own fingers to finish the job – Lord knows that had sufficed on many lonely nights before this one. But he'd already finished himself off once tonight and Kurt's tongue was just so fucking skilled. Seriously, for someone who claimed to have less experience than him, he was doing a phenomenal job if the way he was sucking and licking was any indication. And, according to Blaine's cock, it was.

One of Kurt's hands had snaked its way back up between Blaine's thighs to grab hold of said cock to begin pumping it. Well, 'pumping' was a bit of a stretch because he just held it at first. Then he squeezed it lightly before transferring the weight of his hand from one spot to the next. After that he stroked it only once before letting go and then clutching it again from the bottom. _Then _he began stroking it, keeping his grip extra tight the way he already knew Blaine liked it. All the while his tongue was licking Blaine's entrance and even daring to permeate it from time to time.

Blaine was in heaven.

"Fuck," he groaned as Kurt buried his face deeper into Blaine's ass.

His hand had also simultaneously picked up the pace, so Blaine's pleasure had doubled within the same second. His heels dug into the ground as he rocked his hips towards Kurt's mouth. His back muscles were tight because he was holding on for dear life; he wanted this to last for as long as humanly possible.

"Don't you dare," came Kurt's thick, muffled voice.

Blaine nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. But it was so hard to keep his thoughts from straying to images of Kurt; Kurt completely naked. Kurt touching himself in the dead of night, pretending his hand was Blaine. Kurt bent over, bracing himself on the bed as he…

Blaine groaned as he pushed away the last thought. Kurt had released him from his grip and was now focusing on how to use his mouth as a device of torture in every way possible. He flinched as he felt the cool skin of Kurt's finger making its way into the mix.

"If you don't want me to come, you shouldn't do that," Blaine warned in a husky voice.

Kurt chuckled to himself, choosing not to respond, but to press his finger even more firmly against Blaine's tender skin.

Blaine gathered some material of the sleeping bags in his hands, clenching his fist as Kurt's tongue entered him. He attempted to fight back a moan, but it just felt so fucking good; Kurt's tongue was swirling around – testing the waters, so to speak – but he was doing it so well. Like a seasoned pro. Blaine had to tense up his muscles just to take down the intensity of that simple move.

Without any further warning, Blaine was taken aback when he felt a small finger – perhaps Kurt's pinky finger – enter him alongside his tongue. It stung, just barely, but he barely had time to register the miniscule amount of pain compared to the splintering sensations in the pit of his stomach. He vaguely heard the sound of Kurt sucking and licking over his own labored breathing.

Suddenly Kurt's finger pulled away. Blaine was about to protest when it was back again – and it brought a friend. He loosened up his tense shoulders a bit as Kurt's fingers slid in, not letting the fact that his fingers were a little bit coated go unnoticed.

"_Oh_," Blaine sighed. "Oh," he said a bit louder. "You really thought of everything." It was a struggle to speak.

"Just enjoy it," Kurt ordered.

Blaine closed his eyes and tried to do as Kurt told him to. He had quickly readjusted around Kurt's fingers – he wasn't new to this – and was quickly moaning for more.

Kurt came up from between Blaine's legs, fingers still buried in his ass, to silence Blaine with an intense kiss. He used his free hand to cup the back of Blaine's head and pull him in, kissing away all the moans. In order to make it to Blaine's mouth without removing his other hand, the reaction was quite pleasant for Blaine, who whimpered as Kurt's fingers moved deeper.

Blaine bit down hard on Kurt's lower lip, knowing it'd leave a small scar if he was lucky. That was the way they functioned; if something felt good they would claw at each others' skin, kiss them roughly, or move closer. Things would become frantic very quickly; from zero to sixty in a split second. He kneaded Kurt's lip between his teeth, fighting against his body's natural reaction to shiver.

He whispered, "Kurt, just...I need _more_…" he repeated Kurt's earlier words needily, clutching Kurt to him by locking his fingers in his hair.

Kurt tore his lip – already swollen and bruised, Blaine could see – away, smirking at Blaine's desperate pleas. It was almost torturous to watch Kurt slowly lower himself back down, lips trailing over Blaine's chest, his abdomen, his hip bones, straight down past his erection and back to where he'd been before. It was almost torturous, but Blaine watched anyways.

Kurt kept looking up at him between the gap in his legs, maintaining eye contact as he added yet another finger to the equation. Blaine wanted to throw his head back and yell, but he gritted his teeth and maintained eye contact. He propped himself up on his elbows and stared Kurt down. Well, attempted to anyways. He probably just ended up looking worn out from lust.

Blaine hissed as Kurt began moving his fingers in and out, very slowly first. When he realized that Blaine could take it easily, his movements became faster. Blaine groaned and thrust his hips to meet Kurt's movements. God, it felt so fucking good to be riding Kurt's fingers. He tried to bring them in further without Kurt's assistance, but it didn't work. He ended up collapsing back onto the sleeping bag and giving up. Kurt was nothing if not skilled in the art of teasing.

He had filled Blaine enough to sustain him, not to fulfill him.

"Do you have any idea how hard this is?" Blaine hissed in complaint.

"What a fortunate choice of words," Kurt purred. His breathing was strained.

"Hey, where's your other hand…"

Blaine looked down to see what had to be one of the best sights he'd ever seen in his life: Kurt touching himself as he used his dominant hand to keep thrusting into Blaine. It shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but he just could not tear his eyes away. Kurt's normally light skin had a deep blush coloring it: coloring his cheeks, his chest, his cock. Blaine couldn't avert his eyes from that specific part of Kurt's anatomy; the part he wanted so badly inside of him.

"Kurt, _please_," Blaine begged. He didn't like not being the one in control just as much as he enjoyed the prospect of Kurt being the one to enter him.

"Just…give me a second," Kurt grunted as he continued to jerk himself off.

Blaine almost regretted asking Kurt to do something more the second Kurt's hand withdrew. God, it felt so strange to have his ass clenching around nothing but air; strange but good. He'd missed this feeling. He tightened his cheeks together to emphasize the emptiness just because he could. It was only a second before he felt something new at his entrance. Something warm and slick, which could only be one thing: his favorite part of the male anatomy; of Kurt's anatomy.

Kurt was on his knees, holding Blaine open with two fingers as he just nudged at his entrance. He swiveled his hips and dragged his cock around the edges of it, coating it with a mixture of his own stickiness and the manufactured kind. He was biting his lips in…nervousness? Blaine was sure he saw a moment of hesitance in Kurt's eyes.

"Kurt, this…isn't your first time, is it?" Blaine asked. He asked, but he really, really didn't want to stop. But if he was Kurt's first…That was a big responsibility.

"Of course it is," Kurt answered.

They both looked at each other, neither on of them moving. The silence in the air was thick; the snapping of the wood feeding the fire seemed ten decibels louder even though seconds ago they were able to tune it out with ease. Blaine could hear the soft current of the lake, the rustling of the grass in the evening breeze.

"It's my first time with _you_," Kurt corrected himself. "That's all I meant."

Blaine exhaled a sigh of relief. "What a coincidence. This is my first time with you," he teased.

Somehow the declaration of this simple truth made the moment seem way more intimate than it'd been before. Theoretically with all the physical moments they'd shared in the past few weeks, you'd think "intimate" would be something they were way past. They were past embarrassed and shy, they were past self-conscious and actually giving a fuck what the other one thought because they were borderline desperation and need. That was all they were to each other – a need. Right?

Blaine didn't have time to dwell on it as Kurt resumed his actions, pressing his hips forward. He was putting himself inside – just an inch. Blaine couldn't help but smile, it felt good to have Kurt finally inside of him, even if it was only a fraction of the way to go.

"Whenever you're ready," he told Kurt, already readjusted to the newer addition.

Kurt observed Blaine, still biting down on his lower lip as he looked over Blaine's naked torso. "You're better at this than I am," he admitted.

"Not from where I'm laying," Blaine teased.

He only laughed for a second before another brief burning occurred down south. Kurt had inched forward some more, daring to go a little further than the next fraction. Blaine wasn't ready for it, so it burned a second longer than before. But after he relaxed, he took the liberty of scooching down a little further to help Kurt along with the next span of inches.

They hadn't even gotten going yet and he already heard Kurt groaning. Oh, Blaine could imagine it: having his cock buried in Kurt's ass. He was probably tight too, so it'd feel even better. He clenched his cheeks together to give Kurt some pleasure and was rewarded with a high-pitched moan.

Kurt grabbed Blaine's thighs and thrust deeper, almost all the way in. That was his idea of revenge: trying to hurt Blaine. But it didn't hurt at all; Blaine had done this so many times before. He took a deep breath and thrust his hips downwards, completing the last few centimeters on his own. He took a deep breath and wiggled his hips around, enjoying the way it felt to have Kurt all the way inside.

He could feel Kurt's hands on his thighs trembling. Blaine looked up and could see Kurt with his eyes shut tight, breathing hard. What could've easily been mistaken as whimpering actually looked like small sobs. Blaine wasn't sure what was the matter, but he remained still for a few minutes, allowing Kurt to catch up to where he was.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Kurt nodded. "I just needed a moment," he said lamely. He looked more to his normal controlling self. "But now you're going to get it," he promised.

Blaine put his hands over Kurt's hands, still gripping his thighs, signaling him that he was ready to take whatever Kurt was going to give him.

Blaine gasped as Kurt pulled out – almost all the way out – before slowly pushing all the way in. He arched his back into Kurt's second thrust, this one quicker than the last.

"_Fuck_," he murmured, digging his fingernails into the back of Kurt's hand. "_Yes_, Kurt."

Kurt seemed reassured by Blaine's mutterings as he rammed in a bit harder. His thrusts went from tentative to possessive in a matter of minutes. His hands remained on Blaine's thighs, utilizing them as a weapon as he pulled Blaine into himself as he practically slammed into him.

Blaine had released Kurt's hands and was trying to find a grip anywhere. His hands grazed the sleeping bag, they ran across his own chest, they clenched in fists until his knuckles were white. He just had to do something with his hands while Kurt continued to find his rhythm.

Then it came to him. He reached down and grabbed his own cock, beginning to jerk himself off to the timing of Kurt's thrust. And, sweet _fuck_, that felt good. His pace was almost feral; completely animalistic, being driven by the most basic human need.

Kurt saw what he was doing and swatted Blaine's hand away.

"That's _my_ job," he protested, taking hold.

Blaine didn't even bother to argue because he was being overtaken by feeling so much. Kurt's familiar, sure hand was working wonders on him while he ass was being filled. It was so good; better than he'd ever imagined in all those late nights in his bedroom. Of course it was. Of course _Kurt_ was.

Blaine had to restrain himself from talking too dirty to Kurt. Not that he could form coherent sentences at this point anyways, he was that far gone. God, all he had to do was look at Kurt and he'd be finished.

He dared to look back down to where Kurt was still kneeling. He was rocking back and forth, panting just as hard as Blaine, one hand still braced on his thigh. Blaine wrapped his legs around Kurt's waist, pulling him close as Kurt picked up the pace one last time. Blaine wasn't going to last one more second. Kurt's eyes locked with him and then he knew it was over.

"Kurt, I'm…" Blaine tried to warn him, but it was too late.

He came hard and fast, spraying both himself and Kurt in the process. Kurt continued thrusting into him as he finished out, hot spurts of the white sticky liquid jetting out of him as it coated his own chest.

Blaine was gasping for air, but he knew if he wasn't quick that it would start hurting to keep Kurt in his ass. He rode Kurt faster than before, tightening himself and clenching his cheeks together so that Kurt would feel an increase in pressure. The effort to do so was excruciating, but he did it anyways. From Kurt's audible moaning, Blaine could tell it was working. He pushed down one last time, taking Kurt all the way in before he felt Kurt's cock throbbing inside of him, releasing his own pent up substance.

Kurt had to brace his hands on either side of Blaine as he fell forward. He was visibly shaking; his shoulders, his hands, his arms, everything. There was sweat dripping down his forehead as he leaned over Blaine and rested his head on Blaine's chest, too weak and lost in the moment to bother pulling out. His eyes were shut as he tried to regain a normal breathing pattern, but it was a while before that happened. Eventually his breathing came back, but the shuddering didn't cease.

Blaine rubbed Kurt's arms in what was a comforting gesture.

"Hey," he said softly.

Kurt opened his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked for the second time that night.

"It must be the night air," Kurt said.

He reached over and pulled on his shirt, not bothering to button up the front. Blaine had to admit, it was a good look for him. Just add a tie and…Oh, too soon for those kinds of thoughts.

Kurt saw Blaine wince and slid back onto his knees. He held Blaine's waist as he slowly slid out with a small, wet noise. He wasn't in such a good condition himself.

"So I get round two, right?" Blaine teased lightly.

Kurt smiled back confidently. "Of course, if you think you can follow that act."

"Oh, I can, and I _will_," Blaine answered with equal enthusiasm. "Just you wait."

"I just need a few minutes," Kurt said, lying back down next to Blaine, who was busying himself by cleaning himself off as best as he could.

He watched as Kurt rolled over and reached into his open duffle, pulling out an extra blanket and draping it over both of them.

"Come here and I can warm you right up," Blaine whispered.

Kurt gave Blaine a small smile before scooting over and kissing him full on the lips.

Their limbs tangled underneath the blanket; skin on skin. Blaine's bare chest was pressed flush against Kurt's ass they kissed. They kept it light, soft. It was almost better than their rough kisses in its own way, because their lips were so tender and subtly bruised. Blaine's fingers brushed against Kurt's cheek as they continued their slow, familiar kissing.

If he tried, he could almost imagine that he meant something to Kurt like this; when they were in each other's arms kissing for the sake of kissing. Almost.

* * *

><p>Kurt faced towards the pile of wood that once served as their fire. It was an ungodly hour in the morning; he could tell because the sky was getting lighter. He was underneath the blanket with Blaine, whose arm was tucked around Kurt's waist at the moment. His fingers moved as he slept, brushing against Kurt's bare skin.<p>

He wouldn't cry. He promised himself he wouldn't cry.

But he'd lied.

Blaine was his first. And when they went in for "round two", as Blaine had called it jokingly, he had been Blaine's…what? Fourth? Fifth? More than that? More than he could even imagine or begin to count on his fingers?

But right now – right in this moment as he watched the sky turn from dark blue to light, then to purple with hints of orange – as Blaine slept beside him with his arm wrapped around Kurt's waist, holding Kurt to his chest and breathing into his hair, Kurt could almost imagine it.

He could almost imagine that he meant something to Blaine.


End file.
